Archive of Our Own ^beta

February 13th, 2021

“I love you guys. Like, so much. You’re all like… a real family. Like, my family.”

Yoongi’s face is flushed, almost shiny with sweat. In contrast, Namjoon feels like the wind is whipping his face with a pure dose of frostbite. He’d zipped his padded jacket all the way up to his chin, but it was still too little in the face of this winter’s freezing evenings.

Yoongi hiccoughs on his next attempt to form words, which seems to shock him into realizing that he is past the point of inebriated. He stops there, pouting lips agape as his expression turns contemplative.

Namjoon counts it as a blessing; he and Jungkook had been trying to pull Yoongi to a stop for several of his drunken steps forward already.

Jungkook loops his arm around Yoongi’s waist as if restraining him from further moving away from the rest of the group, and Namjoon takes the opportunity to button up Yoongi’s trench coat, too. Yoongi might have been feeling overheated and giddy right now, but Namjoon would be the one to suffer most from Yoongi’s grumpiness were he to return to the office sick with a cold on Monday morning.

“If you want, hyung, I can spend every Seollal with you. I always spend it alone, too.”

That was news to Namjoon. He’d concentrated his efforts to convince on Jimin, knowing that both Taehyung and Jungkook would naturally follow his decision. He’d assumed everyone was heading out of province to their families, with the exception of Hoseok and Seokjin who only had to travel as far as Gwangju.

He’d known Yoongi would be alone. He’d found that out three years ago already. When a particular deadline had made it impossible for him not to work over the holiday. He’d foolishly forgotten key documents on his desk, all neatly organized in an accordion binder, ready to be carried home.

He should have been in and out in under a minute, but his cubicle neighbour, Min Yoongi — the only other new hire when he’d joined the company, and a figure he’d crossed paths with in a handful of his university lectures, but who had always seemed eager to scowl at and disagree with him — had risen from his seat just as he’d picked up the binder. It had caused quite the scare for Namjoon.

By then, they’d already been close — fast friends ever since their joint on-boarding. Namjoon had made diligent efforts to stall and to offer to help Yoongi, to make sure the other could get home for Seollal as promptly as possible. He’d stalled so much that Yoongi had eventually been forced to confess, in a somewhat embarrassed tone, that he wouldn’t be heading home to Daegu at all. That, actually, he didn’t have any pressing deadlines like Namjoon did. He’d only wanted to get some work done, for fun.

Their empty, dark office had felt even more depressing once Yoongi had explained as much.

Following years had seen Namjoon juggling his time between staying at home with his family and checking up on and doing quick activities with Yoongi. This year, he’d finally pulled it off. He’d somehow gotten all of their close friends back in Seoul for the last day of Seollal.

“Have your parents banned you from their house too, Jungkook?”

Yoongi’s nearly shouting, as if unaware that Jungkook is directly next to him. Namjoon looks away, afraid they might be overstepping by entertaining that line of conversation. Over the years, he’s only ever gotten to guess what Yoongi’s familial ties were like. Yoongi was outspoken, defiant, unafraid to question authority and his peers alike. Nevertheless, Yoongi was kind, considerate, and never managed to fully hide the hurt on his features when someone brought up his family.

Personally, Namjoon has always guessed that Yoongi had clashed a lot with his parents, but had never expected to be written out of their lives.

“Not really,” Jungkook muses. Namjoon notes that that same hurt he would have expected from Yoongi was absent in Jungkook’s expression. “They always invite me, anyway. But, I can tell they’re really — relieved? Put at ease? Whenever I come up with an excuse not to go.”

“That’s stupid,” Yoongi bemoans. His face scrunches up, eyebrows drawing lower meanly, but his entire body slumps down more and more, almost leaning fully onto Jungkook. “They shouldn’t be relieved. You’re still born in 97, right?” Jungkook opens his mouth, but Yoongi just continues forth. “This is the year of the ox now, they’ll be real sorry.”

“Of the metal ox,” Namjoon can’t help but to supply under his breath.

Yoongi, somehow, doesn’t miss it.

“Of the metal ox! You’re shining so bright and they’re fucking missing it.”

There must be an attempt to say more, but Yoongi has slumped even further down, has pressed his face up against Jungkook’s shoulder. Anything more that comes out is made unintelligible, spoken into Jungkook’s leather jacket directly.

“It’s no problem,” Jungkook laughs, and it almost sounds easy. “I get to shine for all of you guys instead.”

Namjoon feels self-indulgent enough to take in the moment, allows himself to be inspired by Jungkook’s easygoing nature. It doesn’t resemble his much. If Jungkook lives in a world where the sky above is made out entirely of silver-lining, Namjoon is constantly scurrying around, doing his best to find the shadows; so that he’ll be able to shine the brightest of lights onto them until they vanish.

He shakes his head, focuses in on the moment again. It’s still too cold. He’d suggested they continue the night at his place. The restaurant they’d found tonight wasn’t too bad, though all of his and Yoongi’s favourite locations were closed for the holiday. His apartment wasn’t too far from the restaurant, and they’d proven a number of times before that it was spacious enough for the seven of them. Of course, he hadn’t expected that taking his usual path through the park to get home would result in the group fractioning off so seamlessly.

He glances around. He’s not too worried about Jimin and Taehyung, who had migrated to a bench as soon as Jimin had complained that he felt queasy. A complaint, Namjoon knew, was purely motivated by the desire to have Taehyung’s full attention. It was more Hoseok and Seokjin he was afraid of losing, both looking eager to shoot pictures they would be sure to find lacklustre once they’d properly sobered up.

He spots them and watches for a moment as Hoseok makes some kind of an attempt to climb up the park lamppost. He assumes it’s to get to a better angle of Seokjin for their drunken photoshoot.

Reassured that he could pinpoint their location, but not so reassured that Hoseok wasn’t about to tumble down to the ground, he returns his attention on Yoongi, who’s reemerged from his hiding spot against Jungkook. His face is still flushed a bright pink, but his eyes look a little tired now, less shiny. Namjoon reaches out to squeeze his shoulder.

“As you can see, we’re all here for you. Regardless of what it’s like… with your parents.”

He’d hesitated on the last words, unsure if he was allowed to bring up Yoongi’s parents; he hadn’t before, but it was also the first time he’d heard Yoongi reference them himself. He’d thought of using the words “at home” instead, but that had felt even more off. There was no doubt that Yoongi’s home was in Seoul.

Yoongi starts looking around, as if only now realizing that the full group was no longer together.

“I’m here for you, hyung, for sure,” Jungkook adds enthusiastically, small puffs of breath visible in the cold air as he laughs brightly. “But, kind of seems like those other guys accepted to come home early because tomorrow is Valentine’s Day.”

Playful, but truthful. The reminder, however, has Namjoon groaning in an ugly mixture of frustration, exhaustion, and annoyance. His eyes meet Yoongi’s once he realizes they’re both letting out the exact same sound.

They both start laughing uncontrollably.

“I don’t know what to say except that I hate them so much sometimes,” he manages amidst the laughter. The glee of sharing this sort of thing with Yoongi has him feeling moderately warmer in the chilly dusk.

“They are insufferable,” Yoongi replies, over-articulating each syllable.

“Who?” Jungkook asks, sounding honestly clueless, expression gone blank with the extreme shift in mood and conversation.

“Uh, them, duh?” Yoongi doesn’t bother even pointing to their friends, and it has Namjoon laughing harder. “Kind of seems like they’re here for Valentine’s Day? Kind of, Kook? We’ve had to hear about their romantic plans like for every waking second of that dinner. Every. Single. Second.”

“It’s like they’re trying to one-up each other. Who are they trying to impress anyway?” Namjoon glances back at the bench, where Jimin’s head is resting over Taehyung’s lap. Their shared gazes are painfully intimate, Taehyung’s hands resting over Jimin’s chest, while Jimin plays with his fingers much too gently. Yes, Namjoon thinks, his friends definitely didn’t have to compete with Yoongi’s friends. Both couples were as equally nauseatingly in love. “It’s not like hyung and Hoseok will notice Taehyung and Jimin, or vice-versa. They’re all caught in this la la land of love. Who are they going to impress, Yoongi-hyung and me? Like we ever have a moment to even think about love. We don’t.”

“I’m impressed! I love love,” Jungkook insists, looking unusually serious.

Yoongi finally slips away from Jungkook’s hold, stumbling somewhat to put himself by Namjoon’s side, both literally and figuratively.

“Is it love though, or is it showmanship?”

Jungkook’s cheeks puff out, expression annoyed.

“I know for a fact my hyungs really, truly, love each other.” Despite himself, Namjoon finds himself nodding along with Jungkook’s words. Jimin and Taehyung, it felt like they reserved boundless amounts of patience and care for one another. There was no use denying it. “And I’m sure you can vouch for Hoseok-hyung and Seokjin-hyung, too,” Jungkook finishes, finger brandished towards Yoongi accusingly.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, and proceeds to start unbuttoning the very same buttons Namjoon had done up for him only moments ago.

“Yeah, that’s exactly why we don’t need all this extra stuff. Valentine’s Day? Who cares. That day isn’t even meant for them. None of these silly days are meant for them. They’re supposed to receive gifts from girls. And then next month they’re supposed to get stuff for those girls. Why even bother celebrating heteronormative days, huh?”

Yoongi’s speaking loudly, surely thinking the higher volume could reach their friends. He’s not nearly loud enough. Regardless, Namjoon’s sure it’ll take a physical shove for both pairs to remember themselves and the setting of the night. Taehyung’s leaning down so low over Jimin that Namjoon wouldn’t be surprised if they start exchanging kisses — the only couple he’s met who are so open and public with their physical affections. Something that, shamefully, tends to worry and make Namjoon anxious when he’s out with them.

As for the others, they seem to be chasing after the fast-vanishing sun. Seokjin now piggy-backing Hoseok, who’s posing as if holding up the sun for Seokjin’s phone camera.

“I don’t know about that, hyung… Things that are created and made to exclude groups of people. Isn’t it great when those groups make those things their own anyway? Like, even if just to spite those that created the exclusion?”

Namjoon’s not so sure that he should be picking at Yoongi’s words when he’s obviously inebriated. Yet, there’s a certain sense of satisfaction that comes with seeing Yoongi become so expressive. Seeing that same affronted look he’d had even back in school when Namjoon had often shared his thoughts in class.

“Namjoon, we don’t want to be reclaiming stupid shit!” Yoongi shuffles over to side with Jungkook again, arms crossed firmly over his chest. “I don’t have to remind you that they do all of the stupid monthly love days, do I? I don’t think I can take another year of Hoseok attaching himself to Seokjin-hyung like a barnacle for a full day. And hyung acting all shy and as if he’s just accepting it because it’s Hug Day. Can’t they just ration that hug off throughout the year? A bit every day would be way less sickening.”

No, Yoongi didn’t have to tell him. Even though Jimin and Taehyung hugged frequently, in all ways imaginable, they were particularly stubborn and insistent that everyone watch them hug deeply and longingly on every fourteenth of December.

“Yeah, I mean, yeah. I’m not going to disagree. They’ve got to be getting something out of all this, but from where I’m standing… It’s the worst.”

He’d nearly forgotten that Jungkook was following the conversation too, until Jungkook actually intervenes, looking no less annoyed than before.

“You two are the worst. There’s nothing wrong with them. They like being in love, it’s heartwarming!” His face reddens further when neither Yoongi nor Namjoon offers any meaningful reaction. “Well? Why is it so bad, exactly? Tell me! Help me understand!”

Yoongi puts his hand up, putting down his thumb promptly.

“Like we said, they do all the dumb love days, all of them. Hoseok and hyung even go shopping for those stupid lipstick sales they have for Kiss Day.”

“Taehyung has like this app on his phone that counts how many days it’s been since he’s met Jimin. He doesn’t have to check it, he knows it off the top of his head.” Yoongi nods at Namjoon seriously as he puts down his forefinger.

“Hoseok won’t even buy an article of clothing unless he’s also buying a matching or thematic item for hyung. Like, their famous weekly matching outfits they post online are nothing. They don’t know how to turn it off. They match everything. They have matching towels.”

Yoongi puts his middle finger down and Namjoon is ready to fire his next example, but Jungkook is putting his hands up, shaking his head adamantly.

“None of that is so weird… right?”

Jungkook actually looks uncertain now, so Namjoon pushes forward.

“If you don’t think it’s weird, it’s ‘cause you’ve met them when they were already together. Trust me, this isn’t standard couple behaviour. It’s overkill.”

“You know couple behaviour, hyung?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows are raised, challenging. Namjoon swallows harshly, uncomfortable.

Maybe he hadn’t been in a real relationship before, strictly speaking. Surely, when the day would come, and he wasn’t so busy with work, he would treat his other half lovingly and respectfully. Without going so overboard.

“Listen, kid. Joon and I will go do something sappy together tomorrow, just for the hell of it. We’ll document it for you. And trust me that it’ll feel fucking weird to see. Because it’s too much. So unnecessary, so dumb, so…”

“We are?” Namjoon asks, though Yoongi doesn’t seem to be listening anymore, eyes faraway as he tries, then forgets to complete his sentence.

“Well, yeah. It’s going to be weird because I didn’t think either of you would date in this century.”

“We’ll do a Valentine’s Day date,” Namjoon affirms, somewhat. His tone is a little wishy-washy, and he keeps his eyes on Yoongi, waiting for him to give him a cue or his approval.

“Yep,” Yoongi pops his lips with the word, but his eyes are still elsewhere.

Next thing Namjoon knows, Yoongi is wandering off towards Hoseok and Seokjin. He takes it as his cue to head towards his own couple of friends. The night was freezing, and the sooner they were inside, the sooner he could get another drink.

Jungkook follows his steps, all traces of annoyance gone.

“Did I just witness Yoongi-hyung asking you out?”

“No?” He doesn’t know why it comes out so questioningly. “We’re just going to hang out tomorrow, and partake in Valentine’s Day traditions, I guess? Don’t be weird.”

Yet, the proposition is weird enough that he doesn’t mention it to their other friends. He doesn’t even bring it up to Yoongi at the end of the night when he gets into a shared cab with Taehyung and Jimin. Undeniably, he’s hopeful that Yoongi will have forgotten about his outlandish offer come morning.

February 14th, 2021

Waking up is terribly difficult. In the end, Namjoon only manages to drag himself off the couch — apparently he’d been too out of it to make it to his bedroom, and his friends’ lingering heat had enticed him to collapse there and then — once he catches sight of the kitchen clock.

Just past two in the afternoon; the chocolatier down the street closes shop at three on weekends.

Namjoon himself doesn’t necessarily have a sweet tooth. That said, his little sister always insists they visit the shop whenever she’s in town. He typically makes it his mission to dissuade her from buying her favourites — these pralines coated in a smooth evergreen-coloured chocolate. Mint-flavoured, the bane of Namjoon’s existence.

The store staff certainly seem to care about the art of chocolate-making. Citing the regions where the cacao was sourced, boasting about sustainability chains, describing flavour profiles of high-end chocolates with words Namjoon didn’t even know could be tied back to food.

Even Min Yoongi would find that kind of chocolate faultless, right? That is, if Yoongi even remembers yesterday’s random request. If he doesn’t, Namjoon can have the chocolate for himself. If he dislikes it, he can set it aside for his sister’s next visit. Simple.

Except not that simple, because he had never bought anything in the store unless directed by his sister to do so. Moreover, he doesn’t know what kind of chocolate would be appropriate for the occasion. Too expensive would be too serious. Too cheap would be insulting, would earn him Yoongi’s glower. He doesn’t even know what flavours Yoongi actually likes — had he ever even seen Yoongi eating chocolate?

To make matters worse, he’s just tired enough that fitting himself through the rows of products proves to be a challenge in itself. His vision is obscured by a veil of fatigue and grogginess. It’s through that very veil that he catches sight of what his brain decides is the perfect confection.

He stares at the chocolate cat through its transparent wrapping. Its face is only represented by a few, simple lines, which manage to radiate a certain aura of gleeful sloth. The cat sits, round as can be, on a nest of straw.

Namjoon picks it up without thought. It’s not until later, freshly showered and dressed, that he considers his choice of purchase.

The little chocolate face of the cat starts to annoy him. It was much too silly — that a chocolate confection had managed to remind him of Yoongi. Of course he had been at the chocolatier to get something for Yoongi specifically. Still, it felt awfully sentimental to be reminded of Yoongi by something so sweet and adorable.

As if summoned by the thought, Namjoon’s phone starts vibrating on the kitchen counter, screen lighting up with Yoongi’s contact information.

He picks it up, and it’s as if Yoongi had started speaking even before he’d had the chance to accept the call, already mid-sentence.

“— make sure you have dinner before coming over because I really can’t be bothered to make food that’s edible by anyone’s standards but my own.”

“Come over?” Namjoon interrupts, busy turning the chocolate cat away from him, so that its face will finally stop staring up at him.

“Didn’t you listen?” Yoongi wheezes out a breath, annoyed. Namjoon figures that information had come at the beginning of the sentence, before he’d been able to accept the call. “Said there’s no point going out. There’ll be tons of gross people out there, which seems counter-productive to us showing the others how over the top they actually are. We don’t need to gross ourselves out in the process of doing it. Besides, I’m tired.”

“So, you still want to spend Valentine’s together?” Namjoon confirms carefully. He already senses a rush of relief at the prospect of getting the chocolate cat out of his home.

Yoongi hums affirmatively, and Namjoon hears the telltale sounds of a spoon hitting what is presumably a pot — apparently Yoongi had already gotten started on that dinner meant only for himself.

“Yeah, I think yesterday was enough of a social outing to last me for the rest of the month. I looked up Valentine’s Day ideas for couples who like to stay in.” Namjoon thinks for a moment that they probably would be the sort of couple to often stay in, too busy investing most of the hours of their days into their work lives. “I read making a chocolate fondue at home can be nice.”

“Want me to pick up things at the store then?”

He pushes the cat further across the counter. Even turned around, its presence is burning. He can’t tell if it would be awkward to bring it over now that Yoongi’s proposed the current plan.

“Think I’ve got enough dipping provisions for the both of us. And don’t really trust you to pick up the chocolate.”

Namjoon glares at the chocolate cat.

“And why not?”

“‘Cause you can’t just pick up any random chocolate. It’s got to be specifically right for fondue-making.”

After some back and forth, it’s settled that Namjoon will make a serious attempt to locate the correct chocolate. He tucks the chocolate cat safely into his tote bag, figuring they could melt the cute little thing down if he does fail his mission. Hopefully, the fondue-making requirements were in fact based on fanciness.

Locating the right chocolate at the store is a hurdle, one that requires Namjoon hunting down an employee in order to be pointed in the right direction. He finds that it might have taken longer than even Yoongi had anticipated because when he’s ushered into Yoongi’s apartment, he spots the spread of food items on Yoongi’s small kitchen table — all perfectly lined up in glass bowls and ready to go. Banana slices, grapes, strawberry slices, lychees, tangerine segments.

He’d expected the chocolate to just be dumped into a pot over the flame, but Yoongi’s process involves more chopping, whisking, and pulling out spices from the kitchen cabinets than Namjoon would have thought useful.

Too awkward and clumsy to offer an additional set of hands in the preparation, Namjoon sits in a heavy silence at the table. Earlier, his fingers had brushed the packaged chocolate cat as he’d reached into his bag for the chocolate bars for the fondue. It had sent his heart racing, and now he keeps the bag over his shoulder, afraid that if he leaves it somewhere, Yoongi will just happen to see its contents.

“Didn’t know you were the type to dress down for a date,” Yoongi proclaims, seemingly randomly.

Namjoon tugs at the collar of his sweater; one from their shared alma mater. Maybe it had seen better days, but his pants were from an expensive brand — even if he had purchased them secondhand.

He only takes notice of Yoongi’s outfit now. A well-fitted sweater, deep green, and loose dress pants. It’s not readily apparent that he’s made the effort to dress well, but for Namjoon — who knows every combination of clothes Yoongi will wear to the office — it is. The presence of colour alone is enough to indicate that Yoongi had stepped outside of his comfort zone.

Not only is Yoongi putting in all of the work for their shared treat, but he’d also carefully picked out his outfit. In a rush of embarrassment and panic, Namjoon pulls out the chocolate cat and slams it down onto the table. Miraculously, it doesn’t fracture into pieces.

“Ok, ok, settle down, it’s ready,” Yoongi answers the sound, as if he thought Namjoon had banged the table in impatience for the fondue to start.

Yoongi, pot in hand, stops a step away from the table, spotting the uncannily gleeful cat.

“It’s for you,” Namjoon says stupidly.

He almost winces at the awkwardness of it all. Of course it’s for him, who else would it be for?

“Is it in a nest?”

Namjoon looks down at the straw in the bottom of the package questioningly.

“I’m not sure…”

“What if there are like chocolate eggs inside of it? Is it hollow?” Yoongi smirks as he puts the pot over the stand, moving the second chair around the table to sit himself next to Namjoon, rather than across from him.

“I don’t know. But it’s yours if you want it.”

“Damn right, it’s mine.” Yoongi sets the package aside, picking his fondue fork up and spearing a piece of tangerine. “So you picked it ‘cause it looks just like me?”

“No! Why would it look like you?” Namjoon thinks maybe that had sounded too affronted, transparent in a way that reveals he’d definitely picked it up because it had reminded him of his friend. He tries to stab a banana slice, but he misses and only manages to aggressively bring the fork down onto the glass bowl.

“Did you know that Hoseok and hyung call me ‘meow meow’? I’m shocked they haven’t in front of you already. I feel like they must live to embarrass me. First, by being gross. Second, by doing literally everything else they do to me.”

“Can I call you that at work?”

“You can call me hyung,” Yoongi settles on, pulling the tangerine segment back, now perfectly coated in the chocolate.

“But like, Meow Meow-hyung?”

“No,” Yoongi responds humourlessly, though it does nothing to lessen Namjoon’s own laughter.

Namjoon drops fruits on himself a total of three times throughout the dessert.

Eventually, Yoongi can’t hold back his snickering and tells him, “Good thing you wore that old thing, huh?”

Reminded of Yoongi’s prior accusation, Namjoon straightens up and pops the stray lychee into his mouth.

“To be honest, I’m not really one to date at all. You’re the same, right?”

“Sure am, which reminds me…” Yoongi gestures for Namjoon to lean in towards him as he pulls out his phone. “We have to document this, as promised.”

It’s a lot more preparation than Namjoon ever puts into his own selcas. Yoongi gets him to hold the two fondue forks up, and makes sure that the skewered fruits are as chocolatey as they can get. Namjoon doesn’t comment on the chocolate running down his hands and wrists. Yoongi then proceeds to hug his chocolate cat to his chest and spends much too long angling his face this and that way and stretching out his arm to find the perfect perspective — one that will make them both look passably attractive, and will capture the fondue pot and the little fruit spared by their generous appetites.

Namjoon smiles his best smile, even if he doesn’t like the image on the screen. Yoongi seems slightly more successful, as if used to taking pictures at a very specific angle. Namjoon has a passing thought that he should go through Yoongi’s selcas later tonight; just to see if he always shoots them in the same way.

He eats both skewered strawberries as Yoongi hastily types away, surely messaging their group chat. He does his best to wipe the chocolate running down his wrists with the tissues set out on the table as he waits for Yoongi to resume the fondue.

“Done,” Yoongi announces proudly.

As soon as he locks the phone, the thing starts pinging with incoming notifications. A sound Namjoon is awfully familiar with. It sounds almost every morning, Yoongi often forgetting to put his phone back to silent before making his way to the office.

“What are we even doing?” Namjoon sighs, mostly to himself.

His mouth is full when Yoongi answers.

“Let’s do it. Let’s annoy them with these dumb love traditions all year long. Unless you suddenly get the urge to be gross and actually date someone.”

“So… next time, next month? White Day?”

“Every fourteenth,” Yoongi agrees.

Namjoon wonders if they would eat jjajangmyeon in April, as single people are called to do. He’d seen characters on screens in that position countless times, but he’d never actually partaken in the tradition himself.

“What about Pepero Day?” Namjoon asks, recalling the 11th of November.

Yoongi grimaces and stabs the last grape a little aggressively.

“I put my foot down at Pepero Day. We’re not in middle school.”

“We could just eat Pepero at work for fun. We don’t have to tell the group.”

Yoongi hums suspiciously, but says nothing more on the matter.

On the bus on his way home, Namjoon forces himself not to look at their friends’ reactions, and doesn’t linger too long on the photos they had dropped further down. Hoseok and Seokjin looking unrealistically beautiful in matching scarves and mittens, Taehyung and Jimin in a blurry screen capture of a video he knows will be too saccharine for his taste. He stops at the picture Yoongi had sent.

He saves it.

They rarely take pictures like this together. It’s nice.

March 12th, 2021

Yoongi leans against the wall separating their cubicles. Standing, only his eyes peek above the wall, triangular and sharp.

Namjoon has been ignoring his staring for the better part of a minute, but Yoongi has yet to move away.

“What?” Namjoon asks, trying to sound the least irritated he can.

It’s one of those days where he has three competing deadlines, and no understanding from those waiting for his work. It’s Friday, so of course Yoongi and him are some of the only ones left behind in the office by now, dinner time having long come and gone. He gets the feeling Yoongi’s staring that intensely just to tell him goodnight before heading home.

Yoongi is tapping his knuckles against the separation of their cubicles; the rhythm of it sounds a little hasty.

“You going to be swamped this weekend then?”

Namjoon glances over, tries to focus on the familiar outline of Yoongi’s eyes, if only to avoid growing more annoyed. Yoongi has always had him beat on time management. Yoongi could sit down at his desk and be focused and concentrated for impressively long periods of time. The same way he sometimes came into work looking totally distracted and unable to produce much. Namjoon, on the other hand, was always stuck on the same setting: everything takes him longer than he expects it to take him.

“Don’t think so. Everything’s due by midnight. Unless everything bounces back immediately and I have to handle edits over the weekend…”

Yoongi brings his hand up and taps his knuckles decisively over the top of the wall now.

“Cool. So, we’re still on for Sunday?”

Namjoon doesn’t answer right away, tries to discretely open the calendar on his screen to make sense of what Sunday could be.

“Oh, right…” Namjoon whispers as he hovers his cursor over the number fourteen. “I nearly forgot about it,” he lets out, a tad apologetic.

Namjoon imagines the way Yoongi shrugs, though he can still only see the top of his head.

“No worries. You’ve been staying late, even by your standards, for the last two weeks straight.”

That, and their group of friends had eventually let go of Namjoon and Yoongi’s spontaneous Valentine’s Day date. As if it had been a real date, and the lack of followup had made them all too uneasy to bring it up, afraid that things hadn’t worked out between them and that it had become a touchy subject.

Namjoon can’t really imagine that situation in real time. Actually dating Yoongi? The whole thing not working out and having to sit right by him at work for however long it would take before they each made enough headway to get their own offices? Nothing like that had happened at all, but even just the thought of it made Namjoon incredibly sad.

The lack of playful remarks from their friends and his heavy workload had all but banished any thoughts of White Day from his mind.

“What does one even do on White Day?” Namjoon mumbles as he clicks back into his document and saves his work for good measure.

Yoongi making him a chocolate fondue was his first actual Valentine’s Day present in life. He’d never before been put in the position where he had to return the favour come White Day.

“All Hobi told me when I asked was triple the return.”

“Huh?”

“You know, rule of three. Got to spend three times more than the girl spent for you, you know?”

“I absolutely did not know,” Namjoon sighs, feeling just slightly appalled by how archaic it all sounded.

“Yeah, so I was thinking…” When Yoongi doesn’t immediately go on, Namjoon — finally — fully looks up from his monitors. He’s met with Yoongi’s downturned eyes. His eyelashes look especially pretty when he looks down; he’s noticed a while ago. He hears a faint thudding sound and is convinced Yoongi’s now nervously kicking his foot against the wall instead of his knuckles. “Let’s go to the Whanki Museum on Sunday.”

Namjoon’s jaw practically drops.

“Like, Kim Whanki’s museum…?” Namjoon asks slowly. He’s sure he sounds silly. What other museum could Yoongi be referring to?

“I know the chocolate you got me was damn fancy. That cat was honestly delicious. The admission fee isn’t much, so it really isn’t triple the return at all. And I feel like you must have been there a thousand times already, but… Pick what you want from the museum’s store before we leave, I’ll get it for you. Triple the return.”

Namjoon prods his tongue against his inner cheek in thought. Seeing those artworks in person, that had always been one of his happiest places to be. He feels a little confused by the fact that Yoongi had even offered.

“And how do I triple my return for you? Didn’t I eat like all your fruit?”

“I spent time to make you the fondue. So, give me triple your time by showing me some of the art you like. Seems like a good trade-off to me.”

Did it really? Namjoon would be the one spending time somewhere he loves, surrounded by some of his favourite art pieces. Canvases that had helped him steady his mind time and time again. And what was Yoongi getting in return?

Namjoon’s vulnerability?

Was that actually a gift?

Yoongi taps his knuckles over the wall once more.

“Let me know. We can go in the early afternoon. We can coordinate outfits if you think that’ll rile the group up more.”

And with that, Yoongi is gone, his walk as confident and as determined as it always is. Namjoon watches him leave for a little too long. He likes the boots Yoongi had worn today, the thick soles made his legs look even slimmer and longer, and gave him more of the height that his personality called for.

Namjoon turns back to his monitors with a small sigh. Yet, he feels his lips quirk upwards, just slightly.

He’s not really focused on his work anymore. He’s thinking of which paintings to show Yoongi first, how much he should tell Yoongi about each, whether he should wait for Yoongi’s opinions before saying anything at all. He has to make sure to triple the return, right? Make sure Yoongi would get as much out of this as possible.

Even if all he could get was more intimate knowledge of who Namjoon is as a person.

March 14th, 2021

[JHS]: wait a minute…

[JJK]: !!!

[JJK]: didnt i TELL you?

[JJK]: i told you they would work out!

[JJK]: one month going strong!

[KSJ]: How does this qualify as a date, exactly?

[PJM]: dear fashion police

[PJM]: please open your eyes

[PJM]: they are MATCHING

[KTH]: Jimin… how could you

[KTH]: look at joon he obvs stole my yellow beret!!! that’s mine!! why didn’t you notice that first? I’m hurt for real

[JHS]: is it a date though? where the hell is that?

[PJM]: true kind of just looks like some random neighbourhood

[KTH]: …

[KTH]: I wish joon were here :(

[KTH]: it’s the Whanki Museum duh?

The exchange drags out for much longer, but Namjoon finds himself scrolling back to the photograph Yoongi had sent the group, prompting the conversation in the first place. It’s not as natural as their picture last month, which Namjoon had actually saved as his home screen. These days, he makes sure not to unlock his phone directly in Yoongi’s field of vision.

He looks more agitated in this picture, tense and worried that he’ll bore Yoongi, or worse, that Yoongi will outright dislike the artworks.

Yoongi had been the one to remind him that they had to take the picture. He’d forgotten, somehow, even though they’d spent nearly two hours over the phone on Saturday night making desperate attempts to come up with “couple outfits”. He’s not surprised their coordination hadn’t met Seokjin’s high standards. He’s a little more surprised that Jimin had spotted it so swiftly.

He hadn’t even known that Yoongi owned such a cute beret. And, yes, he’d worn the one Taehyung had left at his place a while ago. Their matching gloves really were just promotional gloves their company had handed out to all staff last winter. With the company logo right over the palms of their hands. The rest had been a half-baked effort not even worth mentioning.

It was hard to get a good sense of the location from the picture, too. The museum was in fact located in a residential neighbourhood, hidden and tucked away in a banal, everyday scenery. Namjoon loved it. Maybe he should have counted on Taehyung to recognize it, they had met working at the National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art as students after all — Taehyung even still worked there today. Nonetheless, he’s again unsurprised no one else had picked up on their date location.

Date.

He looks over at Yoongi, almost afraid that he’ll have overheard his thoughts. Yoongi, however, hasn’t moved. His forehead is still pressed against the bus’ window as he observes the people out and about.

Namjoon puts his phone down, not actually that interested in catching up on their friends’ conversation. Instead, he turns the book Yoongi had bought him over, running his fingers over the spine reverently. It was truly a collector’s art book, something he could not have justified splurging on. Yoongi, however, hadn’t hesitated.

As for him, he’d gotten Yoongi a large print, now rolled up in the tube tucked between Yoongi’s slim legs, of the painting Namjoon had just sensed Yoongi had liked the most. Something like pointillism but not quite. Something that had too many blues for Namjoon to properly pick apart, but contained no other colours. Something he was convinced Yoongi had felt called to. Yoongi had just smiled politely and had taken the print gratefully when Namjoon had handed it over.

“Really? You haven’t had your fill? We were in there for over four hours.”

Namjoon jolts, looking up from where he’d opened the cover — he’d just wanted to get a proper look at the book’s table of contents.

Yoongi’s watching him now, looking heavy-lidded and smugly satisfied. Namjoon’s fingers reflexively clench over the book. He wishes he could skip over this part. Fast-forward to the following morning. Where there is a firm, real and physical wall between the two of them. A setting where, when Yoongi stands up to talk to him, all that peeks above are his eyes. Where Namjoon will be left to just guess at Yoongi’s expressions.

Now, Yoongi feels too close, his feelings too easy to tell, laid bare before him. Just as Namjoon had felt in the exhibition. As if the gallery’s staff had cracked his ribcage open like a birdcage and had thrown his heart onto the canvas for Yoongi to judge.

“Did you like it?” Namjoon ends up asking, instead of plainly asking him: Did you find it boring?

Because Namjoon was boring, wasn’t he? Yoongi had had no trouble identifying what would make him happy; and Yoongi wasn’t even interested in wooing him in the first place. Namjoon was predictable and uncomplicated.

He gets the sudden urge to check the picture in the group chat again. To really take it in and check why it was that their friends could have believed they were in fact together.

He aligns his thumb with the home button, but hesitates. If he didn’t have the KakaoTalk application open already, Yoongi might see his home screen photo.

“Do the lines I draw go beyond the limit of the sky?” Namjoon drops his phone onto the hardcover book, nearly whipping his head to look back at Yoongi, who only lifts his eyebrows as if to invite Namjoon to finish his thought. Namjoon stays silent, and so Yoongi continues. “Do the dots shine as brightly as the stars?”

He knows the words. Yet, all he comes up with is an unimpressively whimpered “What?”

“Kim… Whanki? He wrote that, right?”

“Right,” Namjoon repeats, eyebrows significantly lowered. Had Yoongi read that somewhere at the museum? Was it on his book’s back cover? Where had he picked that up? “Wait… I mean. Were you pretending? Are you actually a fan, too?”

His excitement rises with every word, though he knows it shouldn’t. Not with the unaffected look Yoongi is pointing at him.

“Joon. You used it. Remember, our first week of training? They told us to write a motivational saying we like on a sticky note and to put it somewhere in our cubicles. And you wrote this obscure stuff. Yeah, I looked it up.”

Had he really? He can’t remember that now. He can’t remember anyone asking them to do that. He definitely can’t remember any motivational sticky notes of Yoongi’s. Yet, Yoongi had remembered that easily?

“So, yeah,” Yoongi continues, though not without giving Namjoon a bit of a judgemental look. “I’m saying, it was nice to see the art of someone who would say something like that. I kind of get it better now. It must have felt liberating seeing those words on busy days. Like you could escape into the art you like. Right?”

“I don’t know,” Namjoon answers bluntly. “I don’t remember that at all…”

He angles his screen away from Yoongi to unlock his phone. Getting back to their “couple” picture isn’t nearly as grounding as Namjoon would have hoped.

Yoongi had noticed something like that, had remembered the words for so long. How much did Yoongi actually know about Namjoon and how much did Namjoon have to learn to catch up?

“Ah, really? It was such a weird pick, it really made a lasting impression.”

Namjoon allows himself to believe that. It was just the absurdity, the oddity of Namjoon’s choice that had made it so Yoongi could remember all along. Nothing to do with cherishing Namjoon’s perspective. Especially because he knew Yoongi hadn’t liked him at first. Yoongi had even told him so, quite brusquely, later on. Hadn’t liked Namjoon’s idealism, thought his front was annoying, until he’d understood that Namjoon wasn’t putting up a front at all.

“What did you pick?”

Yoongi smiles and looks away.

“It’s still up in my office. Just come to my desk for once, see for yourself.”

Namjoon wonders how long he’ll manage to resist before sneaking into Yoongi’s space at work. With some luck, Yoongi will have a meeting Monday morning and will leave the coast clear for Namjoon to take a peek.

Maybe, if Namjoon works up the guts to do so, he could check in while Yoongi’s around, so he can explain whatever he’s written down.

May 14th, 2021

Thank god Namjoon had made sure to meet all of his deadlines preemptively. Ensured that his Friday would be free of responsibilities. The initial plan had been to make sure to arrive at the office after Yoongi. Easy enough; Yoongi was consistent, always slinking in around an hour later than Namjoon did.

Today, he hadn’t wanted to come into the office before Yoongi. It’s not like the gift he had for Yoongi could be gift-wrapped, and he felt awkward having it so blatantly by his side for Yoongi to see once he’d come in. The least awkward scenario, he’s sure, was to walk in and go directly to Yoongi to give him the present in person. No lack of clarity. Straightforward. Perfect plan.

Only, nine o’clock had come and gone, and Namjoon had faltered at the front door. He’d focused his thoughts on “what if Yoongi’s late today” rather than acknowledging the underlying fears.

In the end, he’d only left his apartment a full two hours later, after a particularly fired up message from Yoongi.

[MYG]: are you /seriously/ not coming in? i wore bright!! yellow!!! i look like an idiot. if you don’t show up to establish our couple status people are going to start hitting on me. save me.

Namjoon had thought, right, because both people looking to date and those dating are supposed to wear yellow today. Not like that’s confusing.

So, he’d finally left. And now here he is, standing in front of Yoongi’s cubicle, with barely any time left before lunch and a godforsaken and stupid present in his arms.

“Hey, I made it,” he announces shyly.

Despite the bulky headphones Yoongi has on, he immediately turns at Namjoon’s announcement.

Yoongi’s wearing Seokjin’s ludicrously expensive Fendi sweater - the bright yellow one with the word “yellow” stitched in red across the front. Namjoon assumes that’s a big perk of being friends with someone with such a vast online following. He could reap the benefits of brand deals, too. Namjoon had to settle for his one yellow sweater, with the v-neck, one he’s worn to the office countless times before.

Yoongi takes one look at him and his frown deepens.

“So what, you ditched me to take care of a plant? I thought you said you’d stop bringing more into your office. Sunlight still doesn’t reach our space, don’t know if you forgot.”

Yoongi’s voice carries far at first, as he takes a moment before taking off his headphones.

Namjoon’s grip feels slippery now. This was equally as embarrassing as having Yoongi show up second — what had he been thinking?

“It’s for you. ‘Cause it’s Yellow Day…”

This is stupid. The maple bonsai won’t turn yellow until the fall time. Why had Taehyung reassured him that it was indeed a romantic idea? Like hell it was.

“We’re… supposed to get each other roses,” Yoongi explains slowly, a little apologetically, as if he feels bad that Namjoon is that much worse at knowing how to play the part of a couple than he is.

“It’s going to turn yellow… Like before winter. You know?”

“Yeah, in fall. I’ve heard of it before, would you believe it?” Yoongi laughs easily, his features looking a little brighter like this, dressed in such a vibrant yellow.

Yoongi puts his hands out and Namjoon sort of stares unseeingly until Yoongi widens his eyes expectantly. Suddenly realizing he’s still clinging to the potted plant like a lifeline, Namjoon panics and hands it over roughly. Yoongi doesn’t seem bothered, only laughs louder.

Namjoon looks away, eyes focused on Yoongi’s open cabinet door. The one he sticks all his notes to with his “to-do tasks”. At the very top, Yoongi’s “motivational” sticky note. Namjoon had discovered it after a full week of indiscreetly looking for it.

Wherever there’s hope there’s a trial.

Namjoon’s embarrassed to say that he hadn’t understood the reference until he’d looked it up later. He’s also embarrassed by the fact that he still hasn’t bought up to Yoongi that they both seem to like Haruki Murakami’s works.

“Guess this couple stuff ain’t too bad. So far it’s just been getting more presents. Who doesn’t like that?” Yoongi pauses his words as he settles the bonsai down, over a stack of handwritten notes, it looks like. There’s hardly ever free space on Yoongi’s desk. “Though kind of feels like I’m just becoming more and more like you. I have a Whanki print framed over my bed, and now I have to take care of a small tree?”

“You framed that?”

“Wasn’t just going to tape it to the wall like some teenager.” Yoongi’s turned back to his screens, hand up to shoo Namjoon away. “Can you go unpack and stuff. I made lunch for us to share. You’ve wasted the entire morning transporting a miniature tree.”

Namjoon only exhales fully once he’s collapsed into his office chair. The breath out is shaky, hard to get out. It takes him several moments before pulling off his scarf and putting his bag down under his desk. The fourteenth of the month has become stressful.

Though not quite stressful like a deadline he knows he can’t meet. Stressful like waiting for a rollercoaster to take its first plunge. Stressful like when he was in high school and knew he’d be ranked first but still held his breath as he checked. Stressful like finally going somewhere you’ve always wanted to see. That’s how he felt around Yoongi now, at least for the days leading up to the 14th and for a few lingering days afterwards. Like there was a soft current of electricity that was running across his skin that wouldn’t dissipate no matter how much he focused.

He’s thankful that Yoongi doesn’t comment on his lack of work — computer yet to be turned on — when he comes by a little later. After heating their lunch up, Yoongi leads him two floors down. They’re not close to anyone on that floor, mostly the accounting and human resources departments, but they often use the patio on the floor, with its multiple picnic-like tables.

This week has been a little chillier than expected, and Namjoon wishes Yoongi would have told him he wanted to eat outside; he would have brought his scarf. He says nothing of it. Instead, he gestures towards the container of food. He’s impressed Yoongi has a yellow porcelain container like this, he’s never seen it before.

“What are we eating?”

“I made yellow curry.”

“Hyung!”

“What?”

Yoongi gives him a clueless look as he pulls out the two spoons and pairs of chopsticks from his lunchbox.

The pair he hands Namjoon is sky blue, it reminds him of the print that is apparently framed over Yoongi’s bed now.

“Curry is for single people.”

“Yeah? We had jjajangmyeon for Black Day. That was just last month. What’s the big deal?”

That was true, but only technically. By the time they’d left the office together, it hadn’t even been the 14th anymore. Their Chinese restaurant of choice had already been closed for the night. They’d ended up in a small, extremely busy restaurant, atmosphere loud with drunken businessmen. They’d been too tired to think or say much, only eating hurriedly with half-lidded eyes. It had been fun, and not stressful like today was. Just Yoongi and him after a long day of work, as it often is.

“Yeah, ‘cause there was no alternative for couples. This month we’re supposed to wear yellow and —”

“And give each other bonsais?” Yoongi’s expression stays serious for all of three seconds before he bursts out into laughter. “It’s not like you know how to be conventional even when you try. Let me be unconventional, too. Enjoy my curry. I went to Seokjin-hyung’s at like dawn to prepare this.”

“Seokjin-hyung and Hoseok both saw you?”

“Even better, they both helped me,” Yoongi pokes Namjoon’s shoulder, as if he’s enjoying seeing him grow tenser with every word.

“So what? Only my friends think we’re dating now?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes and Namjoon watches the familiar motion intently.

“You have too much faith in them. They just thought I was hella confused, teased me for having my first boyfriend, the usual. Said they’d teach me how to be a better date, then I told them to fuck off. But only after the curry was ready, of course.”

The meal smells good enough that Namjoon isn’t surprised at all that Yoongi had gotten Seokjin’s help. The pair had prepared enough meals together for the whole group for Namjoon to think of himself as a big fan of their cuisine collaborations. It’s only when he actually looks down at the open container that he allows himself to truly feel touched by the fact that Yoongi had gotten up early to cook something for the two of them specifically.

The carrots in the dish have been sculpted into perfectly-shaped roses.

“Well…” Namjoon clears his throat. His voice had sounded weird on that one word. “Kind of seems you’re better at dating than I am, I couldn’t even get the rose part right.”

“Don’t hate on my baby,” Yoongi says in between bites — Namjoon hadn’t even reached for his first bite yet.

“Ah, what… You mean, I shouldn’t hate on myself?” Namjoon asks unsurely, face flushing. If he wasn’t feeling stable enough to eat before, it definitely wasn’t getting better now.

His stomach settles somewhat when Yoongi gives him a dark, incredulous look.

“No? I meant my new child, my bonsai. Don’t come for my baby.”

Namjoon reaches to take his first spoonful. He hums around the bite, only then realizing he hadn’t yet eaten today. Too stressed, probably.

“I didn’t even know you liked it, really.” Yoongi doesn’t answer, just keeps eating. Namjoon, somehow, knows this probably means Yoongi likes it so much that he doesn’t want to talk about it. “Are you going to name it?”

“Egg.”

“What?”

“My baby’s name is Egg. You said it’s going to go yellow. So, yellow like an egg yolk.”

“What?” Namjoon repeats.

“Also, I wish I had added an egg to this curry.”

Namjoon shakes his head fondly. It so chilly outside after all.

They both leave the office fairly early that day. Before heading out, Namjoon snaps a picture of Yoongi hugging the potted tree close to his chest, for the sake of their group chat, of course. If he notices that Yoongi’s smile on the photo is sickeningly sweet, that doesn’t really matter.

Along with the picture, he sends a short message to the group.

[KNJ]: He gave me carrots shaped as roses, and he also baptized it “Egg”. Holly’s lucky he ended up with the name he has.

It’s seconds before Jungkook answers.

[JJK]: WHAT

[JJK]: you two are so cute that youre almost cuter than tae and min

Namjoon feels self-satisfied. Feels like they’re actually proving a point, as they’d wanted to from the very start.

It’s just that no one’s acting like they’re gross and in love. Everyone’s just acting like they’re sweetly in love. Namjoon feels bad for not flagging it to Yoongi.

June 14th, 2021

“This is objectively the worst thing I’ve seen all day.”

“Well, isn’t it the first thing you’ve seen all day? I don’t think you got up once, today. Despite me trying to talk to you several times.”

After Yoongi had waltzed into the office at his usual time and had invited Namjoon to head out together later at six o’clock, Namjoon had entered an extreme work-focused mode. It was thanks to that mode that he was now riding down the elevator with Yoongi, right on time. The cost of that had been to ignore Yoongi’s voice throughout the day.

He had been a little hungry once he’d gotten up from his desk, but after scrolling through their group chat, he’s feeling a little less so.

Jimin had predictably shared a couple picture. Both Taehyung and him sporting very pink, very shimmering, lipgloss. Just that would have probably been fine, even though it was a very strident reminder for Namjoon that the fourteenth had come around once again with June’s Kiss Day. It would have been fine had it not been for Jimin’s caption: only one of us applied the gloss can you guess who

Namjoon’s still staring when Yoongi speaks up again.

“Oh, come on. It doesn’t look smeared at all. I’m betting they didn’t actually make out before taking that picture. I bet the caption just means Jimin applied it for Taehyung, too. Stop looking so grossed out, I’m starting to get queasy.”

Namjoon scrolls past it with a silent sigh, following Yoongi out of their building. The picture Seokjin had sent felt a little more tasteful. Seokjin in a white blouse with a lip print pattern, Hoseok in a loose shirt with the Rolling Stone’s tongue and lips logo featured in big. There was a red lip necklace around his neck that looked just a little too expensive for a once-a-year gimmick.

At least neither couple had sent something like video or photographic evidence of kissing. Namjoon hadn’t been able to recall if they had typically done so in the past. He didn’t know what they’d expect from him and Yoongi. He nearly curses when he scrolls further down to see a brief exchange between Hoseok and Jungkook.

[JHS]: sorry kookie :[ i still can’t always believe this chat is now 3 couples

[JHS]: you’re not feeling left out, right?

[JJK]: no im good! jimin gave me flavoured glosses and im thinking of eating them

[JJK]: starting with the marshmallow flavour one

[PJM]: jungkook NO

Couldn’t Namjoon have just gotten Yoongi a pack of those beeswax lip balms he loves so much? He’d been stressed beyond belief trying to figure out how to prove to the others that they had kissed for the month, not entirely sure if Yoongi expected them to actually kiss in the first place.

“Joon? Geez, I can’t get you away from screens today.”

He locks his phone, blinks as he realizes they’re now outside, heat from the early summer bright and oppressive. He loves this time of the year, when the streets are already sunny when he’s walking into work, and he can often manage to escape the office before the sun has sunken down for the day.

“Sorry. It was tight getting everything done before six. You should’ve told me over the weekend, I could have planned better.”

Yoongi bumps into his side, gives him a look that might be chastising, or might be guilty — Namjoon thinks it may be both.

“I’d say sorry, but at least it pushed you to end early… for once.” Yoongi tilts his head backwards, only slightly, eyes shutting softly as the sun brightens his winter pale skin. “I thought we could grab some ice cream, my treat.”

“Oh?” Namjoon straightens up, starts pushing his sleeves further up. His hunger is back, the proposal sounding appropriately sweet and refreshing in the uncomfortable summer heat. “Are we getting that weird ice cream?”

“Yeah, Joon. We can go get the ice cream from the Hungarian place.”

Namjoon fiddles with the strap of his bag. Yoongi had shown him that spot. Despite the fact that Namjoon had grown up so close to Seoul, in the city on nearly every other weekend, Yoongi — who’d stayed in Daegu until he’d graduated high school — knew vastly more about where to get delicious and interesting food.

“Yeah, the place that puts the ice cream in the sweet bread,” Namjoon adds, desperate to find a more eloquent description than his first attempt of weird ice cream.

“The kürtőskalács,” Yoongi agrees, the word so foreign to Namjoon’s ears that he can’t begin to guess whether Yoongi had pronounced it correctly at all.

“Right… Do you have to show off your random knowledge so much though?”

Yoongi laughs, and Namjoon finds that he isn’t at all annoyed. In fact, he’s not even that stressed at all. Even though he knows that Yoongi knows what today is; he had been active in their group chat today, unlike Namjoon. Was this their monthly date? Namjoon couldn’t really tell because these were the sorts of outings they could do ordinarily, thoughtlessly. He wonders if it would be better to kiss Yoongi with the taste of ice cream still lingering on their mouths, and somehow manages to not stress over that.

The thoughts and doubts leave him somewhat once they make it, the small shop popular enough that there is a considerable line before them. Namjoon spends most of their wait time studying the flavours listed on the menu. They’ve stopped by a handful of times before, but Namjoon is always curious to try out a new combination.

Yoongi interrupts his decision-making with a relatively muted voice.

“Good thing there’s no choco mint option here, right?” He must sense that Namjoon doesn’t quite get it because he adds, in an even smaller voice, “I don’t think there’s any way you’d accept to kiss me if I had just had it.”

Now Namjoon is really stressed. He trips over his tongue just to get something out, something that’ll let Yoongi know he’s on the same page. He remembers what they’re doing. He’s not eager enough to think that Yoongi just wants to kiss him without any special reason.

“Maybe we should smear ice cream all over our mouths and take a picture, pretend we made out midway through eating.”

“Ha. Sounds grossly familiar.”

Namjoon ends up ordering mango and coconut. Yoongi gets his usual vanilla, and lowers his voice to ask for the multicoloured sprinkles. As if he were ready to pretend that the employees had slipped the sprinkles without his consent if Namjoon were to ask about it later.

There are no seats in the small shop, so they wander not too far off, take a seat on a low wall, under the shade of a nearby business’s roof, like they were still loitering high schoolers rather than overworked adults playing at the idea of having a significant other.

Namjoon is strangely relieved when Yoongi snaps a shot of them with their ice creams. Now used to this type of ritual, Namjoon doesn’t let Yoongi’s fussing over his angles keep him from starting the ice cream. The picture is shot off to their friend group and Namjoon feels like he can take a full breath in.

No harm done. Another month gone by. Namjoon grows more confused with every month, sure, but at least they’re consistent. The same two friends as before, who have more designated moments where they make sure to hang out, and who keep their other friends more updated than they had previously.

Or so Namjoon thinks as they eat their ice cream peacefully. They talk about their respective projects at work, the dramas they’re both watching, upcoming musical releases they’ve been waiting for, Jungkook’s growing love for extreme sports, their next scheduled get-together for all seven of them.

It’s pleasant, and Namjoon would be happy to just wash up and head directly to bed once he gets home, with the memory of their soothing conversation the only one associated with this evening.

Namjoon hops off the wall when Yoongi finally finishes his ice cream, crumples the tissue that he’d grabbed in the shop in the palm of his hand. Despite his best efforts, his hands are slightly sticky with the ice cream. Yoongi doesn’t immediately follow, gives him a strange look instead.

“Namjoon?” Yoongi jumps down, looks coolly agile as he gets right in Namjoon’s space. “You ok with me kissing you?”

Maybe stupidly, Namjoon’s first thought of panic is about others around them. Public displays of affection may be less gauche on this specific day, but they remained two men — not everyone’s image of what a couple should look like. Once he’s confirmed, with quick glances around, that no one’s looking at them, he faces the second panic: Yoongi has asked to kiss him.

“Yeah,” he says, without any real fully-formed thought on the request and on the reality of actually kissing Yoongi.

Yoongi immediately cups his face, and his hands aren’t sticky at all. Feel soft, like he keeps them exceedingly well moisturized. Namjoon clenches the tissue harder, and then clenches his eyes shut.

Yoongi kisses tenderly. Like he’s pressing a secret directly to Namjoon’s lips. Something that’s meant for only Namjoon, even though he’s kissing him right in the open. Despite his lack of experience and the very short list of people Namjoon has ever kissed, he finds himself pressing closer to Yoongi, kissing him back with more urgency.

If he brushes his tongue against Yoongi’s lips, it’s because he wants to check if Yoongi’s lips indeed taste like the vanilla ice cream.

Once he does, he thinks, of course they do, you didn’t need to do that to find out. That’s when he steps back, the information that they — Yoongi and him — have kissed, slowly, excruciatingly slowly, registering in his mind.

Yoongi runs his hands down Namjoon’s chest and Namjoon resists the urge to shiver; the idea that this was a hot summer day all but forgotten.

“There we go. We did it properly. Happy Kiss Day, Joonie.”

Namjoon doesn’t really know what to say. Upon reflection, it seems clear that they’ve done every love day properly, to a certain extent.

“Ok well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he ends up saying.

Yoongi is gracious enough not to laugh too hard at Namjoon; knowing that they still had to walk in the same direction and would only split ways later on. Thankfully, Yoongi isn’t awkward, is the same as he always is. It’s Namjoon, on the inside, who feels flipped upside down.

He just doesn’t have a name for what he’s feeling.

That stays true, even later in the night, once he’s done as he’d longed for. Had hopped into the shower as soon as possible, and slipped under the bedsheets still feeling freshly clean.

His hands are no longer sticky, but he can’t help but to recall the way they’d felt earlier. How that had been something he’d focused on to stay grounded during that kiss, had rubbed the pads of his fingers over the palms of his hands to keep steady.

Just as Yoongi’s lips had met his, warm and oh so sweet. Soft enough that Namjoon had felt silly to have even thought of giving Yoongi more lip balm; it’s not like he didn’t have that covered by himself.

The thoughts and memory are so persistent that it almost feels inevitable for him to pull up Taehyung’s contact. Type in a few key words, hyung kissed me, and then promptly drop the phone down on top of the covers, the reality of the words too enormous once written so plainly.

His phone starts vibrating not long after, the notifications intermittent and feeling aggressive in the silence of his apartment.

He thinks of just drifting off to sleep, of at least holding it in for a couple of hours before checking Taehyung’s replies, but before he even starts to convince himself, he’s flipped the phone over and has unlocked it with muscle memory alone.

Taehyung’s words stare up at him and his heart feels heavy. He may well be his best friend, yet he can’t understand Namjoon’s situation at all.

[KTH]: yay, happy Kiss Day!

[KTH]: wait…

[KTH]: don’t tell me this is like the first time?

[KTH]: it’s going to be like YEARS before you bang!

His next move is automatic, too. He calls Jungkook.

Jungkook picks and chooses when he wants to be impressively quick to reply to messages, or when he wants to disappear from their group chat for days on end wordlessly. So, Namjoon doesn’t take any chances. He wants to talk to someone who knows he isn’t genuinely dating Yoongi. Someone who knows it’s just a nonsensical and confusing charade.

The line connects almost instantly, Jungkook sounding chirpy.

“So Yoongi kissed you?”

For a good ten seconds, Namjoon thinks he must have misheard.

“What? How loose are Tae’s lips?”

“Dunno, but I’m next to him right now.”

It sounds quiet on the other side of the line, they must not be out, the only background sounds just slight rustling. Namjoon figures Jungkook must be spending the night. Wonders, for a brief second, if Jungkook hasn’t nearly moved in with Taehyung and Jimin at this point.

“Can you maybe not be…?”

Jungkook doesn’t say a thing, but Namjoon hears it clearly when Jungkook lands on his feet and moves out of the room.

Namjoon doesn’t wait for Jungkook to assure him that he’s alone.

“I don’t know what’s going on! Do you think maybe I like hyung? Because I don’t know, but he kissed me, and it was… I think I’m kind of confused.”

He distinctively hears the sound of the fridge opening as Jungkook hums softly in reply.

“Well, of course you like him, no? You’re dating?”

Namjoon sighs heavily, then tries sitting up in bed just to let himself flop back down.

“What do you mean? You know we’re just doing this to show how tacky and over the top some of these couple traditions and behaviours are like.”

“But, you’re not over the top? You’re kind of low-key and sweet. Figured you were trying out dating for real.”

Namjoon actually allows himself to mull that over. Granted, Namjoon never felt like cringing or grossed out when he went on “dates” with Yoongi. He just didn’t know if that was the same for Yoongi. Then again, maybe these weren’t dates at all and the epitome of their couple behaviour was just feeding lies through photos to the group chat.

Still, Yoongi had kissed him.

Namjoon curls the fingers of his free hand.

“We’re not doing that… Not that I know of, anyway.”

“Then tell him you like him,” Jungkook answers confidently, plainly.

He thinks of the taste of mango on his tongue, thinks of how hot the sun had felt on the back of his neck as he’d walked with Yoongi before finally splitting ways.

“Ok. I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

Namjoon hears the fridge door slamming shut.

“No problem! I’ll go hug Taehyung-hyung for you now!”

“What, but I didn’t…”

It’s no use, because Jungkook’s already hung up. Namjoon drops his phone again, and this time successfully resists going down his list and reaching out to Jimin next.

He probably needs time to think about this independently.

Yoongi was fantastic. One of Namjoon’s dearest friends, no questions asked. But, did Namjoon actually want to be together with Yoongi? Was this always about some underlying desire that Namjoon had never dared to recognize?

The rest of the workweek is long, verging on painful. Yoongi is there more often than not to make it more bearable. Only, they never even allude to the kiss. Forgotten to a fourteenth of June already.

July 14th, 2021

By the time the next fourteenth of the month comes around, Namjoon still hasn’t figured it out.

Granted, he probably could have dedicated more energy towards trying to sort out his feelings, but really he’d been more concerned with what to get Yoongi. They were back to a month where a simple gesture like a hug or a kiss wouldn’t seal the deal. No, Silver Day specifically involved couples giving each other silver objects.

Namjoon’s pulled his chair to Yoongi’s cubicle. They’re doing the exchange in the relative darkness of the office after hours; too tired to plan an outing mid-week like this.

Namjoon’s dropped the ring from the small jewelry bag Yoongi had handed him. Because, of course Yoongi wasn’t as absurd as Namjoon and actually knew how to follow guidelines, obviously had listened to what his friends must have told him: that a traditional gift was a silver ring.

He loves it right away. The ring is shaped like palm tree leaves, meant to wrap around the wearer’s finger. Yoongi tells him he’s worried about the fit, but it slides onto Namjoon’s index finger perfectly.

“Not to reduce you to a stereotype of that one tree-loving guy… But I do have a mini-tree at home to remind me of you every morning.”

Namjoon smiles, a little tense with the worry of giving his own present in return, but manages a more relaxed air as he recalls Yoongi’s hebdomadal texts where he attaches a picture of the bonsai tree and updates Namjoon with Egg has yet to turn yellow.

“It’s great. I would have totally gotten this for myself.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, but it’s a fond gesture.

“I haven’t seen you wear a ring before, not even once. My guess is that you’ll lose it within the month.”

“No way,” Namjoon huffs out, though he’s immediately imagining a thousand and one scenarios where the ring falls off on public transport, never to be found again.

Yoongi puts his hand out, palm up, expression expecting. Namjoon furrows his eyebrows, confused but ultimately deciding that Yoongi must be asking for the ring back. And yet, Yoongi draws his hand back once Namjoon starts pulling the ring off.

“No, Joon, what the hell. Can you just give me mine now, please?”

“Oh,” Namjoon mumbles out, pushing the ring back into place as he picks his bag up from the office floor.

He feels a little awkward as he pulls out the wrapped gift, the shape giving away that it was not a ring.

“Such a traditionalist,” Yoongi teases, immediately tearing into the paper.

Namjoon looks away. He’s stared at this present for much too long in the week leading up to this.

He can’t tell if time has stopped or if Yoongi stays quiet for an exceedingly long time, he just knows that the silence feels sustained, nearly taunting with its enormity.

When he forces himself to look again, it’s not so bad, because all he gets to see is the back of the frame. He thinks that, even after looking at it way too often this last week, that it’s a nice frame. The silver colour full and clean, the border around the area where the photo is exhibited entirely transparent. It’s fresh and modern-looking, just like Yoongi’s apartment. He hopes that Yoongi can at the very least like the frame, can swap the picture out.

The picture, he’d actually taken in April. The night when they’d eaten jjajangmyeon. He’d been the one to take the picture, Yoongi had crowded in close, and they in turn had pressed themselves against the wall to keep the crowds out of the background of the photo.

He hadn’t shared this one with their group chat. The black noodles in the forefront of the picture a giveaway of their single status. He loved this picture, though. Yoongi had been too tired to even try angling his face as he typically would for his other selcas. He’d only smiled at the phone camera shamelessly, gums out and eyes closing with the force of the expression. Namjoon looked similarly lacking in self-consciousness, his expression as natural as it could be.

They looked happy on that picture, authentically so. It was Namjoon’s favourite picture of them.

“Sorry, it’s probably too tacky…”

Even though he’d also chosen it because they hadn’t been playing pretend that night. It wasn’t really meant to be like a silly couple present, it was a real present that Namjoon could only hope would be meaningful to Yoongi, too.

It’s another sustained moment of stillness and silence before Yoongi looks up from the frame. His posture and expression still haven’t changed.

“You never showed me this picture.”

Namjoon shrugs, kicks his foot against the floor nervously.

“Yeah, I just figured… We haven’t really taken many pictures together before this year. You’re kind of my closest friend, I’d think? I mean, don’t tell Tae. But, I mean, you’re definitely the person I spend the most time with. Thought maybe you’d like to have something like this.”

When he lets his eyes settle back on Yoongi, he’s drawn the frame close into his chest. A strange expression is playing out on his face, Namjoon almost wants to say he looks touched. It’s not a common expression for Yoongi, so he’s not entirely sure.

“Yeah, I love it.”

Simple, small words.

They leave it at that. Yoongi doesn’t say more, but that’s part of the reason why Namjoon knows it had meant a lot to Yoongi. He tries to fight down a smile on their way out of the office, but he’s not so successful. Yoongi keeps sneaking him dark, reproachful looks. As if annoyed that Namjoon had seen how much he’d actually liked the gift.

On the ride home, he keeps his fingers curled, afraid that he’ll lose the ring. Once home, he slides the ring onto one of his longer chains. Once secured around his neck, he checks the look of it in the bathroom mirror. It looks good like that, but Namjoon also just generally feels better.

Finds himself giddy and happy to be able to wear something chosen specifically for him by Yoongi, without the risk of losing it.

Then, looking straight at his reflection, his dopy grin slowly drains itself of all giddiness.

“Oh no…” he whispers to himself, peeling his eyes away from his image to look down into the sink in slow dawning horror.

He absolutely wanted to date Yoongi. Was crazy about him.

Despite how much he’d daydreamed in school of making a difference for people through his hard work one day, and how much he’s ended up pouring into his work — time, energy, feeling — Yoongi was undeniably the best part about working. Yoongi’s intelligent and perceptive eyes, Yoongi’s dry yet wholesome sense of humour, Yoongi’s gentle and kind inclusion of Namjoon into his life.

He’d skipped right over the part where he was supposed to notice that he had a crush on Yoongi, and had landed squarely in love with his coworker.

“Oh no,” he repeats, thinking of their silly arrangement and of how quickly each month of this year had gone by so far.

Oh no, he thinks again, when he climbs into bed and realizes they hadn’t even sent anything to their group chat about Silver Day.

August 14th, 2021

“Make sure not to mix your bottles with ours, ok? Tae will cry if he thinks I didn’t get him his peach soju.”

“Yeah, that boy sure can wolf down his yuja tea, but I think he’d spit out yuja soju for sure.”

Despite Namjoon’s best efforts, Jimin’s fridge is overstocked, it’s a struggle to fit the bottles he’d brought over anywhere. Six bottles had definitely been too much. He didn’t even want to be inebriated near Yoongi anymore. Alas, Green Day called for the purchase.

Jimin only speaks again once Namjoon has managed to push the fridge’s door shut — which is, again, a struggle given its generous contents.

“I just think it’s interesting that you got Yoongi-hyung fruit soju, too.”

Jimin doesn’t look over the back of the couch, so Namjoon can only try to interpret the words based on tone and the back of Jimin’s head as he moves back to the living room.

“Interesting how?” he decides to ask when he’s found his seat on the couch once more.

“I guess it’s not just the fruit soju.” Jimin looks at him, as if he’s waiting for Namjoon to just get it, but then continues with a soft sigh. “It’s the fruit soju, and Yoongi-hyung with Hoseok-hyung right now actually home-cooking your dosirak, and the fact that you’re going to hike Bugaksan to go eat it together and drink your fruit soju.”

“Is that off? I know some couples only do the nature part, and leave the drinking for singles. But you all do the soju bit, too.”

“Nothing off.” Jimin puts his hands up at that, and Namjoon bites his tongue, unsure if he’d come off too defensive. “I just pictured you two like, giving your Saturday up for work yet again, and then, I don’t know, just grabbing a drink at the end of the day in some dingy bar.”

There’s a muted echo in the back of Namjoon’s mind. This is what he’d wanted, for their friends to realize how ridiculous their couple traditions were.

“Because this is over the top? Kind of sickening?”

“No. Because it’s really romantic. I didn’t know you two were like that.”

Namjoon feels mildly disappointed. Jimin wasn’t grossed out, he didn’t look confused, almost looked fond instead. The disappointment, however, is ephemeral.

Namjoon had come over hoping to speak with Taehyung. To seek reassurance about the place he holds in Yoongi’s life. He hadn’t expected Taehyung to be out — according to Jimin he’d tagged along on Jungkook’s morning jog, out of some morbid curiosity to observe Jungkook’s insanely high athleticism.

He felt desperate enough to have someone to confide in that he’d even asked Yoongi to meet up at Taehyung’s place instead of his own before leaving for their Green Day date. In hopes that Taehyung could come back before then.

Jimin’s soft tone and accepting words kind of look like an opening now.

Even if he wasn’t as close to Jimin as he was to Taehyung, surely he knew as much about romance as Taehyung did, right? It only made sense.

“Hey, uh, I…” He could only stutter the words out, still unsure if he would give some introduction or context to this or if he would just dive right into the heart of the matter. “How can I know if like… If Yoongi and I are actually dating?”

Dive right in it is, then.

“You’re actually dating,” Jimin replies confidently.

Jimin’s pleased expression falls away slowly when the silence lasts longer than expected.

“We go on dates, I guess. But like, it’s the same as before we did, you know? If we were going to a dingy bar to grab some soju, we wouldn’t act any different.” He looks down to his lap, horribly aware of how insecure he really is. “I’m confused,” he adds quietly.

“Hyung,” Jimin starts off, sounding both unsure yet confident. Like he knows more than Namjoon does, but feels bad for showing it. “You know, even if you went to a bar today, it would still be a date.”

“Sure, but it’s like… we did everything we’re doing now before. We were already friends. We just have more time set aside to do stuff together now. I mean, hell, we only kissed the one time. In June. Aren’t we more like a couple of friends rather than a couple?”

“Hyung,” Jimin repeats now, more assertive, almost scolding. Namjoon begrudgingly meets his eyes. “Even if you never kissed, or even held hands, you could still be dating. You get that, right?”

To Namjoon’s surprise, Jimin's energy is almost combative. He’s not quite sure why. Taehyung and Jimin are certainly the last couple who could qualify as expressing little physical affection. He doesn’t think they could go a day without kissing or holding hands.

“Yeah, I get it. I’m not passing judgement on how others want to be in their relationships. I’m just trying to figure out if like… if I’m really in a relationship with hyung or if I’m just kidding myself.”

Jimin’s crossed his arms now. His cheeks puffed out in something that looks like frustration. It’s an odd look for his face, and one Namjoon rarely sees pointed in his direction.

“I don’t think you get it though. If you did, you’d know that only you and Yoongi-hyung can answer your question.”

“I don’t want to ask him this. I don’t want to ask for too much, or confuse him too. I’d just like to have a better sense of what he might want before I put myself out there, you know?”

“Hyung,” Jimin repeats yet again, tone increasingly colder. “That’s not how this works. Sure, you need to figure out what you need by yourself. But you can’t figure out what Yoongi-hyung needs for him. Just like you can’t decide whether he’s ready to give you what you need or not. You just need to talk, I promise you it’s not as horrible as you’re making it out to be.”

Namjoon glances over the top of the couch, wishing for Taehyung to get back home. Maybe Taehyung would see this more romantically and less pragmatically. Namjoon doesn’t need anything, not really. He just wanted to see if maybe, just maybe, his feelings were reciprocated.

At this point, he’d even be happy for Yoongi to arrive at the door to take him away from this conversation. He’s starting to think he did well to bring six bottles. He could go for one right now.

“Yeah, don’t know how much he’d be willing to talk…”

He tugs at the hem of his shorts, shifting his gaze back to resolutely stare down at his knees. How much longer would it take for someone to interrupt? Could he discreetly go retrieve his phone in the kitchen to check on the time? Would it take seconds, minutes, hours?

“Everyone’s different, Joon-hyung, and so are relationships. Like, Kook, all he needs is for us to just be there when he needs someone to be. Like, there’s no way that would work if I didn’t already have Tae. Because, personally, I need someone to want me there always, in every way. And Tae’s like that for me.”

Namjoon frowns, tugs at his shorts again. What was Jimin talking about, why had he mentioned Jungkook?

“So what? If you were single you’d need everyone to be all over you all the time?”

“No, that’s not what…” Jimin cuts himself off, scoots in closer to Namjoon. Namjoon resists the urge to stand up and bolt back to the kitchen area. “You know that Jungkook is aroace, right?”

“Right,” Namjoon answers automatically, even though he hadn’t known at all. He didn’t tend to pay much attention to those things, or wonder about them too much. Most of their friend group were already dating each other, and Yoongi’s frequent remarks of ugh, straight people, had been enough to convince Namjoon that they were a group of queer friends. But, he’d never asked for everyone’s specifics.

“Right,” Jimin parrots back. “And even though we don’t go on dates with Jungkook, and we don’t kiss him, or hold his hand, we still think he’s with us, ok? We love him, and he loves us. And Taehyung and I, we get everything that we need from each other already. And it’s no problem for us to give Jungkook what he needs.”

“Uh…”

Namjoon thinks back to when he’d first seen Jungkook. Taehyung, who’d been working as a guide at the museum at the time, had given him a private tour, as no one else had shown for the last tour of the day. He’d gone past the closing hour. Namjoon had spotted them, both wearing matching smiles of unrestrained happiness, as he’d headed home for the night.

Namjoon had worried, just for a fleeting moment, about Jimin. Jimin who was so desperately and openly in love with Taehyung. Taehyung had always been the same, but seeing him alone and so happy with a mysterious and handsome stranger; he’d worried.

Only, Jungkook had become everyone’s close friend, without a problem, without a hitch, and Namjoon had never worried about it again.

“I didn’t know it was like that,” Namjoon eventually confesses.

It doesn’t not make sense looking back on it, but he can’t say it had ever been obvious either.

“That’s alright.” Namjoon’s surprised by the softness in Jimin’s voice. When he looks at him, all the tension and combativeness has fled his features and posture. He’s more like the Jimin Namjoon has gotten to know over the years. “There’s no way we could have worked it out had we not talked about what it is each of us needs. Same thing for you, ok?”

“Ok,” Namjoon says, with absolutely no intent of following through.

In both repentance and some sort of duty born of guilt, Namjoon asks Jimin question after question about his planned date for the day. He bites his tongue whenever he wants to ask about Jungkook’s plans for the day.

He really only is half-listening to the answers, his mind trying to find a workaround for his own problems: how can he have a conversation with Yoongi without Yoongi catching on that they’re having that particular conversation?

He doesn’t really want to get his heart broken if he doesn’t need to. And putting himself out there seems like a sure way of giving his heart away for imminent destruction.

When the door beeps open, he doesn’t even care if it’s Taehyung or Yoongi, he launches himself off the couch as if it’d caught on fire. The guilt had festered since he’d said his “ok”, spreading languorously through his system. Jimin had given him his honest advice, and had trusted Namjoon to listen.

It’s just that Namjoon hadn’t been honest with Jimin about his relationship with Yoongi in the first place — or really his lack of relationship.

Yoongi’s voice carries into the apartment before he even steps inside.

“Save me, Namjoon.” Yoongi appears, hair slightly curled, wearing the same deep green sweater he’d worn on Valentine’s Day, arms wrapped around a backpack that can only contain their lunch. “Why did you make me come here?”

Yoongi’s tone is plaintive, and it takes Namjoon a moment to see it’s because Taehyung is plastered to his back, arms wrapped around Yoongi’s neck as if he’s expecting to receive a piggyback ride.

Indeed, Taehyung’s voice soon rings out, just as plaintive.

“Hyung please, I died out there. I need you to carry me to my bed. I can’t take another step by myself!”

Namjoon approaches to gently take Yoongi’s backpack away, he meets Yoongi’s harsh roll of his eyes with a discreet smile.

Taehyung is quite the sight. He doesn’t look winded, or sweaty, or like colour had ever even risen to his cheeks. With a long headband pushing his hair away from his face, and one long dangling earring, he looks more like he’s returned from a photoshoot than a run.

Jungkook, however, comes in, nearly still trotting in place, t-shirt sticking to his chest like a second skin, bangs and sideburns clearly wet with sweat, bright energized smile lighting up his face.

“Did you like fall and have Jungkook carry you around for the entire run?” Namjoon asks, serious and inquiring.

He moves to the kitchen area, swinging one strap of the backpack over his shoulder to open the fridge and pull the soju out from where it’s tightly packed into the fridge.

Taehyung proclaims “No!” loudly.

However, Jungkook answers with a “Well, kinda,” at the very same time.

Yoongi joins him just as Taehyung and Jungkook start shoving at each other.

“I did not!” Taehyung nearly screeches. Namjoon smiles when he’s turned back from the fridge, seeing Jimin with his arms propped up over the back of the couch, chin rested over his crossed arms as he watches the pair with a lovesick type of look. It’s a nice contrast to Yoongi’s visible wince at the loud noise.

“But… you made me stop in the park, remember? And you asked me to do my pushups while you back-hugged me?”

“Jungkook! That’s between you and me!”

Namjoon almost can’t look away. Jungkook and Taehyung sure did look happy. And Jimin looked happy, too. They had worked it out without a fuss, without anyone catching on to the hard work they had put in. He only had to try it out with one person. He could probably make that work, right?

“You got yuja?” Yoongi asks in a lower tone, moving behind Namjoon to unzip the backpack and slip the bottles in. “My favourite.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon breathes out easily — a detail he wouldn’t have been able to share with Jimin earlier. It hadn’t just been fruit soju, it had been Yoongi’s favourite. “Jimin got peach for Tae. What if we swapped one of ours with one of theirs? Would be funny.”

Yoongi snickers, a warm, low, familiar sound. Nevertheless, it’s followed by the sound of the zipper.

“He was pretty upset already that he couldn’t keep up with Jungkook. Like, wasn’t even close. Let me tell you, it wasn’t a pretty sight. Don’t want to make him cry with the taste of yuja soju, too. You know he has the palate of a child.”

That he does. Namjoon swallows down the warm feeling he always gets when Yoongi shows how familiar he is with Namjoon’s friends. He wonders if he asks Yoongi about the three of them, if Yoongi would tell him he’d already known they were in some sort of a three-way relationship ages ago.

He pushes himself to reciprocate Yoongi’s attentiveness in some way.

“How was Hobi-hyung?”

“Oh? That self-proclaimed king of kimbap? More like king of eating half the ingredients. I had to safeguard ours with my life, Joon.”

“Jin-hyung will be happy though,” Namjoon muses, knowing how much Seokjin enjoyed cooking for others, but how moved he looked whenever Yoongi or Hoseok volunteered to lend a helping hand.

“He got Hoseok this absolutely gaudy necklace. Like this four-leaf clover thing. I swear it was made out of actual emeralds though.”

Namjoon’s mind flashes to the red-lip necklace Hoseok had worn on Kiss Day — he could have sworn that had been made out of precious gems, too.

“Hey?”

Namjoon nearly crashes into Yoongi when he steps away from Jungkook’s sudden appearance. Yoongi safely braces him though, resting his chin gently over Namjoon’s shoulder as he peers at Jungkook.

“Guessing it’s time to go?”

Namjoon furtively glances towards the front door, where Jimin is now with Taehyung. Taehyung’s spine draws a sad and morose looking line as Jimin holds his cheeks preciously. Yoongi must have been right, Taehyung had been acting playful, but had been more downtrodden than Namjoon had been able to notice.

“Yeah, just think they need some time to get ready for their date. Besides, you have to get to yours, too!”

“Yeah, it’s going to be awesome.”

Yoongi’s enthusiasm catches him off-guard, but only for a beat. Then, Namjoon is smiling too, playing with the ring on his necklace a little anxiously. He’d been dreading today, but in reality… Having lunch with Yoongi out in nature, far away from their office, with the added sweet promise of alcohol; it all sounded really ideal.

Later, once their shoes are on and Namjoon has hugged Taehyung tightly goodbye, Yoongi links his arm with Namjoon’s. He doesn’t move away when the door shuts behind them.

September 14th, 2021

Namjoon rushes out of the elevator, restarting his KakaoTalk application once more in hopes that Yoongi will have answered. No such luck.

[KNJ]: Can we do this like as far away from our elevator bank as possible?

[KNJ]: I mean, away from our workplace would have been best, but I don’t think we have time.

[KNJ]: Can’t we reschedule?

[KNJ]: If he wants to make this all professional, it’s going to take time to develop the pictures, right? Why don’t we take them tomorrow? We can pretend it was on the 14th?

[KNJ]: Really? Nothing? You’re just not going to answer?

[KNJ]: Fine. I’m on my way. no more than 14 minutes, ok?

He feels like whipping his head around is just the drop of stress more that he’d needed to start sweating profusely inside of his suit. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck and, of course, it’s slick with sweat.

He’d taken a long shower this morning, something he’s not prone to doing, and had used the most aromatic product he had in his bathroom — some unopened body wash Taehyung had gifted him with some whimsical name like sunshine and daisies. He’d doused himself in perfume afterwards too, hoping the cloud of products would drown out any scent of anxiety and sweat he’d exude come early afternoon.

Turns out, Yoongi had at least followed the first directive. Namjoon’s strides become longer as he spots Yoongi and Jungkook far across the ground floor of their work building. Seated on the padded benches up against the great white marble wall, framed by large windowed areas. Perfect for photos, he has to agree.

What has ice racing through his bloodstream is the fact that Jungkook has set up reflector umbrellas. That Jungkook’s zoom lens looks like the kind a wildlife photographer would take into a frozen tundra to photograph a snow leopard from a great distance.

“Guys,” he complains as soon as he arrives, shoving his phone into his jacket pocket. “What is this? Why does this look like you’re setting up for a wedding shoot?”

Jungkook had sprung up to his feet when Namjoon had spoken up, simply beaming.

“I mean, look at you” Jungkook gestures enthusiastically. “You’re both in suits! It’s what you deserve!”

Namjoon glances distastefully at Yoongi’s fit. Charcoal pants with a grey jacket, not even a tie in sight. He was so loose and confident. Unlike Namjoon who had pulled out his best three-piece suit. He’d redone the tie’s knot three times this morning. Because Namjoon was never loose and confident when he walked into his biannual performance evaluation.

“We’re in suits for our work evaluations. Which are happening so soon.” He pushes a hand through his hair anxiously. “Why did you two plan this behind my back?”

Jungkook has lost the smile, but doesn’t seem ready to answer, instead glancing towards Yoongi intermittently, as if sending a distress signal.

Yoongi offers a weak shrug, then gestures Namjoon over to join him on the bench.

“To be honest, kind of forgot about the performance review until you panicked when I told you about this yesterday.”

When he’d announced that Jungkook would take their pictures for Photo Day, with his professional-grade equipment, over their lunch break to capture the best lighting possible.

“You don’t say,” Namjoon grits out through clenched teeth.

For more than a week, Namjoon had stressed about the pitch he’d make to their directors, to highlight how indispensable he was as an employee — though all he really has on his mind is a list of big failings from the last six months. The last six months he’s spent pretend-dating his closest coworker. Yoongi, however, had disappeared into a boardroom this morning to come up with a pitch, and had returned to his desk twenty minutes later, seeming satisfied with his preparations.

“Thought a photoshoot with your one true love would help you relax before your eval though.”

Namjoon isn’t nearly relaxed enough to muster a smile or even a sarcastic response. He just slumps down into the spot Jungkook had vacated and gives Jungkook a curt nod.

“We probably have like eleven minutes left now. Let’s do this.”

Namjoon’s posture is rigid. Clearly, he isn’t in the mood to be posing for pictures. Yet, as Jungkook takes measured steps backwards, Yoongi scoots in close, wraps an arm snugly around Namjoon’s waist, and rests his other hand near his knee.

It’s a little close and intimate for what they’re used to, nevertheless Yoongi’s touch feels comforting, reassuring, familiar. Some of Namjoon’s rigidity definitely leaks out of him.

“Ok, yes, this works,” Jungkook says slowly, face already pressed up against his camera.

Namjoon smiles, and it’s awkward. He’s making his eyes wide, both because he doesn’t want to accidentally blink, but also because he’d like to have the wide-eyed pretty look that both Taehyung and Jungkook have. He finds it hard to imagine anyone who wouldn’t find them handsome. He bets Yoongi would find him more attractive if he had prettier facial features.

The shutter goes off, then Yoongi turns and presses a smile-shaped kiss to Namjoon’s cheek. Namjoon can’t help it, his face goes somewhat slack, the tension he’d been forcing into his expression melting away as his face colours in surprise and delight.

“Damn, the hyungs are going to beg me to take their photos tonight when they see these previews.”

With another snap from Jungkook’s camera, Yoongi drops his head to Namjoon’s shoulder. The weight of it awakes something in Namjoon — a realization that his hands are just curled into fists over his lap, one of his hundred tells of nervousness. Carefully, he wraps his arm around Yoongi’s shoulders instead, pulls him in infinitesimally closer.

Jungkook steps in closer too, sounds pleased when he speaks again.

“Can’t believe Joon-hyung went from nervous wreck to pile of mush in two minutes, I’m loving this.”

He only realizes that Yoongi’s wrapped a hand around his tie when he feels a slight tug, surprised to find Yoongi looking up at him mischievously.

“Should we kiss for the camera?”

It’s an actual question. Namjoon just doesn’t know any other way of replying than to lean down and kiss Yoongi sweetly. No matter that they hadn’t filled out any HR forms for their (fake) relationship and that anyone from their company could pass by. Jungkook’s setup was definitely eye-catching enough for most passerby to glance their way. No matter that this was only the second time they kissed, and they were doing it in front of their friend, armed with a genuinely terrifying zoom lens.

In fact, it’s the first time that Namjoon kisses Yoongi, rather than the other way around. It’s much softer and quicker. Just a warm meeting of their lips before he pulls back and Yoongi cuddles in even closer for the camera. Still, it’s enough for Namjoon to feel flushed — not from stress this time — and happy and blissful for the remainder of the frames Jungkook snaps.

Jungkook doesn’t protest when Namjoon’s phone starts buzzing in his pocket with the alarm he’d set beforehand.

“That’s fine. You two looked picture perfect, don’t really need more time.”

“Sorry you had to come all the way out here…” Yoongi starts apologetically, but Jungkook waves him down.

An apology is on the tip of Namjoon’s tongue — really, they were cutting it short because Namjoon was too stressed for his evaluation to be flexible with his schedule.

Yet, Jungkook doesn’t turn to him for an apology, seems perfectly content to be putting his gear away just like that.

“What will you use the photos for?” Jungkook asks like they really will make use of the pictures. Not like they will just send one to their group chat to continue their point about how truly annoying their friends are with these romantic traditions and celebrations.

Namjoon knows that’s how it’ll end up, and yet, he asks, “Are you going to swap the photo in the frame?”

Which is a terribly stupid question. Because they had been able to go out as friends on Black Day, and the picture they’d taken had reflected that. And why would Yoongi ever, ever, ever have a framed picture at home of them acting like a cheesy couple?

It’s no surprise when Yoongi shakes his head.

“Nah, are you kidding? That photo is epic. Besides, you prepared it yourself for me. I can’t mess with your Silver Day gift.” It’s a true struggle to not glance at Jungkook. He hadn’t broadcasted their Silver Day presents, he knows that. And he didn’t want the others to know that the ring he wore so often around his neck was from Yoongi. “But I was thinking you could use one of these as your phone background.”

Namjoon feels himself flush even deeper. He hadn’t changed his home screen photo in ages.

“What’s wrong with the one I have now?” he asks hesitantly, testing the waters, trying to find out if Yoongi really knew that the picture was the one they’d taken on their very first “date”.

“Well,” Yoongi says slowly, as if he’s actually pondering the question. “You’re wearing a stained hoodie in that one. And you’re wearing a three-piece suit in this one. Seems like an obvious choice to me.”

The mortification is sour on his tongue. He clears his throat, though that almost ends with him choking on his breath.

“Ok,” he stumbles on the next words when his voice goes so high it breaks. “Let me help you pack up, Jungkook!”

Jungkook hugs his camera close to his chest, gives Namjoon a warning look.

“No way, I’ve heard like at least ten clumsy Namjoon stories from Tae-hyung.”

Namjoon’s ready to protest, but Yoongi’s already up on his feet, patting Namjoon’s back warmly as he moves past him to join Jungkook.

“And I could share about ten-thousand more. I’ll give you a hand instead.”

Namjoon lingers back. He’s sweating more than when he’d first stepped out of the elevator. Partly because he’s not sure how long this will take and he’s not quite sure if it would be rude to walk out; even though his help had been cleanly turned down. And partly because he wonders what Yoongi thinks of his home screen photo. Has he given himself away? How long has Yoongi known? Why hadn’t he brought it up before? Why bring it up now?

Jungkook’s camera bag is slung over his shoulder, equipment under his arm, when Namjoon catches his soft question to Yoongi.

“Hey hyung, want to hang out for Chuseok next week?”

Namjoon averts his eyes, but strains his hearing, curious to know Yoongi’s holiday schedule.

Yoongi sounds a little more subdued than before when he replies.

“Oh, thanks for the invite. I’ll actually be in Daegu though.”

Namjoon instantly feels bad for eavesdropping. Yoongi’s family… That was still something Yoongi had only spoken of once, and it had been to Jungkook. He’d never brought the topic up with Namjoon afterwards. Had never mentioned reconnecting enough to justify a visit for Chuseok.

“Guys, I’ll be heading up now,” he cuts in, eager to escape and to let the two of them talk about it more openly, without Namjoon grossly listening in.

To his great despair, Yoongi falls into step with him and gestures for Jungkook to catch up.

“Walk with us to the elevators. What are your Chuseok plans anyway?”

“Rock climbing!”

There’s a beat of silence during which, despite his mounting sense of discomfort and embarrassment, Namjoon can’t help but to laugh.

“That’s a no from me. Always.”

“I could teach you! You could both come if you want, I can give you couple lessons.”

“You don’t trust Namjoon to touch your photo equipment. You trust him to climb up a cliff and come out unscathed?”

Their banter soon become background droning to Namjoon’s anxious thoughts. This little pictorial interlude, unfortunately, had only put him in a position where he didn’t know what to focus on. His evaluations? His phone background? Yoongi’s Chuseok plans? The way Yoongi and Jungkook spoke of “Namjoon and Yoongi” as if they were truly a couple, when Jungkook had been very much present for their agreement. Namjoon had even had the talk earlier in the summer with Jungkook, to remind him that he really wasn’t dating Yoongi.

He feels guilty when Yoongi tugs at his sleeve, nodding towards the open elevator doors. Jungkook is no longer there, which means Namjoon failed to say goodbye.

Maybe he could drop by Taehyung’s after work. He’s sure he’ll feel better after meeting with the board. Well enough to spend time with his friends.

Yoongi tugs more insistently and he’s reminded that today is the fourteenth. He really doesn’t want to walk in on any home photoshoots.

“Snap out of it, these evals are always like fifteen-minute long. You’ve never caused a problem before. There’s no reason for them to chew you out,” Yoongi says once they’ve taken up a spot near the back of the elevator.

He shuts his eyes when Yoongi’s hand slips into his. Yoongi doesn’t comment on how sweaty his palm is, doesn’t say anything about the slight tremor in his fingers.

Yoongi only lets go when they reach their floor.

October 15th, 2021

His screen is too bright. But he just can’t manage to swipe up for the menu screen in order to adjust it — maybe his fingers are too oily. So, he squints and fights through the unease. The white of the text bubbles makes his stomach lurch.

He needs to do this though. He needs to send something to the group, or else what is he even doing at Yoongi’s place on a Thursday night?

His vision swims when he tries to focus on the displayed clock on top of the screen. He can’t quite make out if it’s already turned to Friday morning by now. Letting his eyes linger further down, he realizes he can’t really make out the texts that had been most recently exchanged either.

He can’t remember when he’d last checked the group chat today. Today had mostly been a blur. A blur during which he’d had to put his head between his knees at least twice to calm down his heart. The pressure to meet his deadlines, prepare more than satisfactory work, please his supervisors at least a little, at an all time high.

Had Yoongi already sent something to the group chat? Would he be redundant? He definitely couldn’t make out any pictures. Maybe he could snap a photo to prove where he is. How many people could spend time alone with Yoongi in his apartment? He’d be very interested in getting that list of names.

It’s a good idea in theory, but Namjoon’s forgotten how to get out of this window and into the phone app.

With a defeated sigh, he sets out to type something disgustingly sweet.

[KNJ]: Yyoonngi trally lvoves me egg is fl orshing

Namjoon blinks at the screen. Something seems wrong with what he typed. When he shakes his head though, the words suddenly line up nicely and make much more sense.

“Right,” he mumbles to himself as he capitalizes “Egg”.

All better, he thinks.

Next to him, Yoongi straightens up with the high-pitched notification from his phone. Namjoon pays it no attention, tries to soldier through his efforts. He’s sure Yoongi will express his approval afterwards.

[KNJ]: Itss lke im the good dplace wheen tahansi s plant does well wheen relatiosngihp goes wek l

[KNJ]: Itss aa ll yellloow

Yoongi slaps the phone out of his hand and it stings.

“Oh my god, what are you doing? Please stop. They’re going to think you’re trying to make alien contact.”

“I’m telling them about Egg,” Namjoon insists as he tries to pry the phone from Yoongi’s impressive grip.

“Are you now?”

He only huffs in reply, annoyed by Yoongi’s tone. Of course he had been, what had it looked like?

When he doesn’t manage to move Yoongi’s fingers, he collapses back onto the other side of the couch, reaching out for his glass. He hadn’t realized he’d emptied it again. Shakily, he pours more from the bottle, but only manages to draw out a few more drops.

He sighs forlornly. Why do these things always happen to him? He’s so thirsty, yet the wine is all gone now.

Yoongi doesn’t comment on that, but swirls the dark red liquid in his own glass around, as if he’s considering sipping at it slowly. Namjoon wonders how hard it would be to steal Yoongi’s glass.

“You know, you really do have a nature-focused heart. It’s a good thing I watched those bonsai care video classes.”

Namjoon has no idea what Yoongi’s talking about. He remembers the group chat. He needs to say more.

“Hyung, please. I need to tell them about the… the… pap?”

“What’s that?”

Why was Yoongi being so annoying? So Namjoon forgot the right words. Yoongi should still understand. He doesn’t have to make Namjoon feel so stupid by pretending he doesn’t get it.

“Have to tell them about the wine. You know, ‘cause it’s some fancy wine, right? And we have to beat them with the wine, for Wine Day. Did they share their wine? Is ours better?”

“Oooh,” Yoongi lets out, annoying Namjoon further by keeping up the pretence that he was somehow hard to understand. “It’s Châteauneuf-du-Pape,” Yoongi articulates slowly.

Namjoon heaves out a sigh, then tries to drink from the glass again, even though his last attempt hadn’t revealed any surprise sips of wine. His cup is truly well and empty now.

“I hate that you know all these foreign words.”

“Yeah, well, only one of us is bilingual and it’s not me.”

“Maybe ‘cause you’re a polyglot and know every word of every language to ever exist.”

Namjoon feels proud he’d been able to form the word “polyglot”. For some reason, his tongue feels heavier all of a sudden, as if it’s a colossal effort to even move it around to make words.

He watches as Yoongi downs the last of his wine, stands to clean up the coffee table. Namjoon doesn’t remember if he’d even seen Yoongi take a second glass of wine. Watching Yoongi move around the apartment is a little grounding though. Not for the first time, he focuses his gaze on the bright yellow of the maple bonsai, propped up near the sliding door of Yoongi’s balcony, as if on exhibit.

He doesn’t sense Yoongi approaching him, but he still doesn’t jump when Yoongi rests a hand over the back of his head.

“I think I need to mentally prepare you for this, Joon, but.. we’re definitely taking sick days tomorrow. I can call in for you.”

Sick days?

The concept of work returns to him slowly, excruciatingly, with all the thorny stress he’d managed to bury further down within himself throughout the evening.

“I don’t want to do that,” he whispers, feeling confused.

“I know, Joon. But by the time you’ve washed up, you’ll only have a couple of hours of sleep left. And your head isn’t going to feel good, trust me. You remember this is our second bottle, right?”

“No,” Namjoon replies dully.

Now that Yoongi’s trying to explain the consequences of their actions, Namjoon’s not quite sure he remembers how he even got here. What had they spoken of all night? How many hours ago did they get back from work? Had they even had dinner?

“I don’t like this,” he settles on finally, resting his head back against the couch.

“That’s ok, let’s just get ready for bed, ok?”

Namjoon feels a little teary-eyed now. Why was everything getting progressively worse?

“If it’s that late, it’s going to take forever to get home. I might as well just walk the whole way.”

Yoongi makes a strange kind of half-huff, half-chuckle noise, before grabbing both of Namjoon’s wrists and hoisting him up.

“Good thing you’re crashing here for the night then, right?”

He hears himself answer “right” even though he has no memory of them discussing a sleepover beforehand.

Getting himself sorted out for bed is unexpectedly easy. Yoongi guides his every move, fills up a glass of water for him between every successful step: choosing sleepwear from Yoongi’s closet, brushing his teeth, washing his face, taking a quick shower. By the time he curls up over Yoongi’s mattress, he doesn’t feel nearly as confused or as sweaty or as heavy as before. He just feels like himself.

The stress from his workday feels faraway too, Yoongi’s bedroom walls like a shield from the usual troubles that plague Namjoon’s mind.

Waiting for Yoongi to finish in the bathroom before turning off the lights isn’t trouble either. Namjoon spends a lot of the time waiting looking up from his spot on the bed at the print from their museum date. He’d never thought of looking at this piece upside down before.

Frankly, his eyes linger more on the quality of the frame’s dark wood than they do the multitudes of blues of the piece he’s so familiar with.

Then, when he’s spent too much time imagining Yoongi either going through the time and trouble of framing the print himself or taking it to a store to be framed, his eyes settle on the Silver Day gift. Proudly exhibited on Yoongi’s dresser. There isn’t much else on the dresser, a sleek-looking black diffuser, Yoongi’s wallet.

By the time Yoongi returns, it almost feels like the sun is about to rise over the horizon. Even though they’re still bathed in darkness when Yoongi climbs into the bed and turns the final light off.

Namjoon curls onto his side, watches as Yoongi mirrors his position.

“Still awake?” Yoongi asks quietly.

“Was I kind of incoherent earlier?” he asks back with a frown.

He could still distinctively feel the frustration that had been itching at his skin whenever Yoongi hadn’t seemed to catch on to what he was telling him. A couple of hours have passed now and Namjoon’s nearly drank his weight in water, and he’s a little embarrassed as he tries to make sense of everything he’d meant to say.

“Wasn’t really that bad. Didn’t know you were such a lightweight though…”

The tone is just teasing enough for Namjoon to relax more into the mattress and smile sleepily.

“I mean… I don’t really remember much after work. But I do remember skipping lunch.”

Namjoon nearly jolts when Yoongi reaches towards him, and — suddenly — caresses his cheek with the sort of gentle energy he rarely sees Yoongi intentionally put into his movements.

“You need to take better care of yourself,” Yoongi adds, with a tone that matches the caress so perfectly that it nearly has Namjoon blanking completely.

“Hyung…”

He doesn’t quite know why he says it, but it feels like Yoongi may have an idea, because he scoots in closer, and cups Namjoon’s cheek.

He struggles to take a breath in, suddenly incredibly aware of how close they are. How uncomplicated it would feel to kiss Yoongi for a third time, right here in his bed, just before the crack of dawn.

It’s not the first time they share a bed. They used to do it more often when they were newer employees staffed on the same projects, who’d return home to just keep working together until they passed out on the bed together, only to get right back to it as soon as they’d gain consciousness.

Things are less hectic now, though Namjoon knows he really worries too much nowadays.

He lets his breath out and then, stupidly, asks Yoongi:

“You saw your family for Chuseok?”

He feels Yoongi’s fingers tense against his jaw nearly instantly. He fully expects Yoongi to draw his hand back, as if burnt. However, the movement never comes. The only change, really, is the deep frown that takes over Yoongi’s features.

“How’d you know about that?”

Namjoon tries to pull the covers up discreetly, feeling colder, but the movement feels brusque and loud.

“You mentioned it last month, to Jungkook, sorry I overheard…”

“Oh, no, that’s fine,” Yoongi reassures him, almost distractedly, as if he really had only asked out of curiosity, and not as an accusation. “I did… Haven’t been since I graduated high school. Things are surprisingly the same back there, I guess.”

“It was good?” Namjoon asks, feeling increasingly stupider.

This was kind of a momentous occasion, a life-defining visit, maybe. And the smartest question Namjoon could muster was it was good?

Yoongi doesn’t seem to think anything of it, because of course he wouldn’t. Yoongi would never actually try to make Namjoon feel stupid, let alone think it in the first place.

“It was… complicated. But I guess it was good for me? Or, I like to think it was.”

Namjoon nods, as if he understands, though he doesn’t.

“It was never like bad at home. I was just always that same person that you first met in university. You know, annoying because I’m always getting behind a million different social causes, and I’m always advocating to the people who couldn’t possibly care less. And my mother always thought I should be one of those people who didn’t care, rather than me.

“Like, if I talked about better conditions in prisons, then all she had to say to me was, are you planning on getting arrested, Yoongi? Like I was never allowed to care about stuff that didn’t apply to me. Which was frustrating, you know?”

“Right, because if it’s just the people affected who are advocating, then we’re going nowhere,” Namjoon supplies.

Things have taken a serious turn, and the edges of his vision still feel a bit fluttery, like someone is trying to pull in the curtains, but Namjoon does his best to shape his words and sentences properly.

“Yeah, sometimes it’s like that, you’re right. Anyway, the one time I told her something I was talking about did apply to me, it was much worse. I told her I was bi during the summer vacation of my last year in high school. And I mean, that was it. She didn’t even look at me again for the rest of the year.

“So, I left. Right after graduation. Seemed like it was what everyone wanted. Went to Seoul, without a plan or any prospects. That year really majorly sucked. I don’t even know how I managed to put together that university application. I was a crummy student, I mean, I still was during our degree. But somehow I ended up with the same position as the cleverest guy of our program, so guess it didn’t really matter all that much.”

“Dunno, I always thought you were the smartest,” Namjoon supplies, somehow managing not to engage with any of the difficult things Yoongi had shared.

“There’s a handful of classes I barely passed.”

“Yeah, but you understood the classes better than most students. I could tell. I mean, whenever you argued with me.”

Their hands are resting between the two of them now, heavy on the mattress. Namjoon can only think of reaching out and holding Yoongi’s hands — like that would be acceptable acknowledgement that his family had rejected Yoongi so coldly.

“Thanks.” Yoongi’s voice lingers. “I always felt so guilty about how I left things. From that very first year my hyung was always asking me to talk to our parents, and I just, never tried.”

“You tried now,” a statement that’s really more of a question.

Yoongi’s eyes lower, and Namjoon wonders if he’s reached the limit of Yoongi’s honesty for the night.

“This year, I just felt like… Maybe it was time to open up more? Give myself more opportunities to actually accept the love people want to give me?”

That sounds promising. Namjoon smiles.

“So, your mom was great this time?”

“No,” Yoongi announces bluntly, though there’s no undertone to his voice. “No, I very much am not allowed to share with her that I’m still bi. She doesn’t want to know that. Know the real me… But maybe it’s not that bad. At the end of the day, we can’t really rely on people to see us the way we truly see ourselves.”

The statement makes Namjoon unbearably sad. Even though, if he applies the words to himself, they’re really a relief. He focuses too much on his shortcomings, sometimes they feel like the sum total of who he is. He’d be lucky if no one around him was that focused on them, the way he is.

“So, you mean… if ever you bring me to Daegu I’ll have to pretend I’m just your coworker rather than your boyfriend?”

Yoongi smiles just as the darkness lessens in the room, the prelude to the rising sun, darkness bleeding out just faintly enough for Namjoon to get a perfect vision of Yoongi’s brilliant smile.

“What a reach, right?”

His mind wants to focus on that, really tear it apart to get to the core of Yoongi’s sarcasm. It’s not a reach. Because they are much more coworkers than they could ever be boyfriends. And they’ve never talked about dating outside of deciding their friends were gross and they wanted their friends to realize that.

He doesn’t focus on it, because Yoongi grabs onto his hands and, to Namjoon’s great astonishment, promptly falls into a heavy sleep.

Namjoon smiles and it’s gentle. Gentle, gentle, gentle like the way Yoongi had spoken to him earlier, the way he had brushed his palm against his cheek.

His head feels so light, yet so heavy.

His stomach just feels heavy. With every passing month, his situation grows more dire.

He hopes Yoongi will still be holding his hands when he wakes up later.

November 14th, 2021

“This is like, their thing. They watch it every year.”

“It’s the first film we watched together! I thought I had to propose something really respectable, given that hyung is an actor. My noona suggested it, I thought it looked like the real deal. ‘Cause it looked like it was shot on no budget, and it showed at foreign film festivals.”

“He only found out that bad movies were my jam later on.”

Seokjin was the only one out of the three who had actually spoken in a softer tone, acknowledging that the film had already started. It was the same jarring start Namjoon had remembered, middle of the conversation, no introductory music or credits, just straight into the dark and loud night of drinking.

He looks over to the armchair, where both Seokjin and Hoseok have snuggled up, Seokjin sunken low in the seat, in between Hoseok’s legs. Hoseok’s eyes are on Yoongi’s though, discussing the film thoroughly instead of paying attention to it.

“Which was a saving grace, because this movie might just be a long series of really unfortunately awkward moments. And I kept laughing, and I didn’t know if I was supposed to have like this solemn attitude towards the film to actually appreciate it.”

On the screen, the scenes have transitioned to desolate, cold landscapes. Hyukjin is alone at the bus terminal, looking around for his friends in the cold.

Namjoon turns his head slightly towards Yoongi, pitching his voice low.

“I’ve actually watched it before, you know?”

“Ah really?” Yoongi sounds almost distracted, as if eager to hear the rest of Hoseok’s story of his first movie date with Seokjin. Namjoon has no idea why. He’s under the impression that Yoongi has heard the story dozens of times before.

“Yeah,” Namjoon urges, already starting to feel bad as Hyukjin finally calls his friend. “Yeah, they made all seven of us watch together, remember?”

Namjoon wishes they were seven now. Or two. Or five. Just, not four like this. As the day had progressed, it had dawned on him that they rarely spent time just them and Yoongi’s friends, sans Namjoon’s friends. It’s been a shock to accept that Yoongi gets along with Taehyung and everyone else with a lot more ease than Namjoon does with Hoseok and Seokjin. He could have sworn he was the more social of the two, and yet…

He doesn’t know why Yoongi had turned their fourteenth, their Movie Day, into a double date. They hadn’t talked about it, and Namjoon’s mind has had ample opportunities to fill in the blanks however he sees fit.

Taehyung and Jimin’s own yearly tradition was to see whatever horror film was out in theatres. A tradition that completely bemuses Namjoon, who knows how invested Jimin gets when any kind of frightening story is brought up. He suspects it’s just another ruse to have Taehyung take close care of him. Silly, really. Taehyung doesn’t need to be tricked into that at all.

Conversation continues as the film evolves slowly before them. Yet, Hoseok and Seokjin are able to pause conversation at all the right times to deliver their favourite lines along with the characters on screen.

Yoongi proposes to start keeping count of how many glasses of alcohol Hyukjin consumes, and everyone participates enthusiastically but Namjoon.

He can’t help himself. The hero of the story just feels as desolate, barren, and lonely as his surroundings. And other characters’ constant thoughtless treatment of him has Namjoon’s frown deepening.

He hadn’t been that affected the first time he’d watched the film, along with everyone else. He even remembers laughing to the point of tears near the end, when it had been revealed that Hyukjin’s friend hadn’t meant Jihye as in Hyukjin’s ex-girlfriend, but rather Jihye as in Hyukjin’s sister.

The trouble this time, he knows, is that he feels self-conscious. Like he’s about to get his heart broken, just as Hyukjin had. Because, why else would Yoongi have invited his friends? Wasn’t he simply avoiding their date, avoiding being alone with Namjoon? Had he sensed the way Namjoon had started looking at him? Was he weirded out? Did he want out of this weird arrangement, and he’d needed to recruit the help of his friends to do that?

Hoseok and Seokjin are laughing so hard now, watching the main character completely bored out of his mind in the guesthouse room, that he nearly misses it when Yoongi leans in and speaks softly.

“You ok? You look a little green or something.”

There are around five different excuses on the tip of Namjoon’s tongue. He hasn’t settled on one yet when he starts answering.

“Uh, I don’t know. I’m a little tired? And my stomach kind of hurts, maybe it was like the fish in the broth earlier? Or, I don’t know. I feel a little feverish.”

Zero conviction, zero persuasiveness. Yet, Yoongi shifts just slightly away, and then pats his lap.

“Come on, you should lay down. Put your head down on my lap.”

And Namjoon does. Even though Yoongi really hasn’t moved far away enough, Namjoon totally doesn’t have the space to do that. Still, he curls up onto the couch, socked feet pressing firmly into the arm of the couch, knees high up against his chest, just so that he’ll fit and he can put his head down on Yoongi’s lap.

Actually, it feels kind of perfect. As he lets out a long sigh, he vaguely remembers the very first day when they had decided on this. A lifetime ago, it feels like. Jimin had had his head over Taehyung’s lap, just like this, on the park bench on their way home.

“Comfortable?” Yoongi inquires.

It’s not nearly as softly as before, and Namjoon kind of worries what his friends will think. He keeps his gaze focused on the television screen, afraid to meet their eyes.

Has Yoongi told them about how Namjoon acts around him, how he suspects he may feel? Will they laugh at Namjoon, who is really too lanky to be fitting himself like this over Yoongi?

Instead, Seokjin says, “Man, why does this guy have no sense of self-preservation? Wouldn’t you think he wants to go home?”

Namjoon thinks he both wants to go home, and really wants to stay right here, shut his eyes, and refuse to move out of this position. He thinks of that book title Taehyung had shown him excitedly last time they’d gone shopping together, I am home but I still want to go home. He wonders if he could describe the feeling he has around Yoongi recently as exactly that.

“If I ever dump you, you are not allowed to go chasing after pretty girls that soon after. Just so we’re clear,” Hoseok cuts in when Hyukjin first interacts with the woman staying in the second guesthouse room.

Namjoon lets his eyes slide shut, feels the way his head presses more heavily into Yoongi’s thighs. Then breathes out more of his stress when Yoongi’s fingers start tangling with the strands of his hair.

He’s relieved he washed his hair right before coming here, even though he’d known it wouldn’t just be the two of them. He’d put in genuine effort, taking out some of his newer clothes and everything. He doesn’t think he’ll ever fully get over the embarrassment of their very first date, when Yoongi had assessed his relaxed outfit so critically.

He truly tries to concentrate on the film, even with his eyes shut. He can’t muster any comments, but he doesn’t think it matters that much. Yoongi hardly comments either, aside from loudly keeping count of the drinks the hero takes, and laughing along at some key moments. Hoseok and Seokjin truly lead the conversation, like they’re existing in their own world, where they can communicate in their own secret language, where it doesn’t really matter if Namjoon and Yoongi understand or not.

He’s alright with that. Because the way Yoongi’s fingers brush through his hair feels like its own morse code, one that only Namjoon is allowed to interpret.

On the screen, Ranhee tells the main character, you’re like a leaf floating on the ocean. The image should be beautiful. Something that should fit right into the sort of motif and imagery and concept that Namjoon enjoys most. Only, it’s as sad and as lonely as the film is making him feel. A leaf on the ocean, trying to understand where he belongs, without anyone to rely on, and everyone he meets taking what they can from him.

Namjoon keeps his eyes shut, then turns away from the screen, his knees digging into the back of the couch and his face pressing closely against the warmth of Yoongi’s stomach.

Even without relying on his eyes, he feels the way Yoongi curls forward protectively, his arms embracing Namjoon’s torso unspeakably sweetly.

“Joon, what are you acting so cute for?”

Sadly, Namjoon can’t curl himself into a smaller ball, and Yoongi’s loose embrace is not all-encompassing enough to truly protect him from Hoseok and Seokjin’s sight.

“Ah really? We leave you the couch for you two to be modest, but you’ve literally squeezed yourself into a smaller space than we’re in?”

“Oh, rich coming from you, Hobi’s basically holding onto you like a baby monkey.”

“Uhm, rude? I only have my legs around him, I’m texting Jungkook, so there’s no baby monkey going on over here. You two however…”

Namjoon can barely hear the sounds of the waves, indicating that the main character has now reached the seaside. They’re all conversing at a normal volume, including Yoongi. Meaning, he could definitely feel that Namjoon hadn’t just passed out right there and then; knew Namjoon was very much awake.

Must have known Namjoon could feel the way he was rubbing his palms up and down his back.

“The movie was depressing him, let him be.”

Namjoon actually presses his face against Yoongi’s stomach then, heart picking up in a nervous speed at finding out that Yoongi had seen through him, without really observing him at all.

“The movie is hilarious,” Seokjin cuts in.

“It’s not very romantic though, is it? No one loves this guy. It’s really what you want to watch for a love day? Each year?”

“Well, yeah? I love the feeling of watching this with hyung. And then we can express our love differently once we get home.”

“Alright, that’s enough on that subject. We’ve totally missed a bunch of hard liquor shots on the beach already. Let’s watch.”

Once that conversation ends, it’s easy for Namjoon to drift off. Yoongi’s warmth is all around him, and the slow, careful movements of his hands are as sweet as a lullaby. Falling asleep then is easy, as simple as telling himself he’s ready to sleep, and that’s it.

When he wakes, Yoongi’s apartment is completely silent. No movements around them, no voices, no audio from the television. Only Yoongi’s fingers, still tugging at different locks of his hair, lets Namjoon know Yoongi hasn’t fallen asleep too.

“Hoseok? Jin-hyung?” Namjoon tries to ask, ready to repeat himself in case the words had only come out half-formed.

“They went home.”

Namjoon kicks his legs over the couch’s arm, squirming a bit to crack his hips, and then turning to settle down on his back, head heavy and not inching away from Yoongi’s lap whatsoever.

“Sorry, your friends must think I’m so lame…”

“They think I’ve corrupted you into a second workaholic.” Yoongi’s hands have slipped away, but now he presses his fingers to Namjoon’s ribs, the simple gesture enough for Namjoon to squirm away, closer to Yoongi’s stomach again. “Even though it must be the other way around. You’re constantly showing me I could be working harder.”

He doesn’t think that’s true. He wasn’t even able to force a good enough impression out of himself to stay awake on their first double date.

“What if they don’t like me?”

He doesn’t look at Yoongi. He knows he sounds insecure, he doesn’t want Yoongi to see that he looks the part, too.

Right at the edge of sleep, barely conscious, he hasn’t censored himself. He’s spoken like a real lover, or boyfriend, concerned and worried that he won’t be accepted by his significant other’s entourage.

Yoongi’s fingers return to his ribs, but less tickling this time, more jabbing.

“What are you on about now?”

“It’s just like… You know? You kind of seem like close friends with all of my friends. I have no clue if I could even hold up a conversation alone with just Seokjin-hyung, or even Hoseok, really.”

He dares look up once the silence goes for longer than strictly comfortable. Yoongi’s face looks stern, unamused. Namjoon should definitely sit up. Get his god damned head off of Yoongi’s lap — god knows Yoongi must have lost all sensation in his legs by now. He doesn’t sit up.

“I am close friends with your friends. Including Hobi and hyung.” Yoongi pauses, then picks back up with an exasperated sigh; obviously having read Namjoon’s lack of understanding. “You know we don’t have like a three-person group chat, right? We have the seven of us. That’s why we talk there, literally daily. There’s no your friends and my friends. Just our friends.”

Namjoon sinks his teeth into his lower lip for a moment, keeps himself from commenting on how it’s a good thing that they’re not really dating then. They don’t have to think of how messy a break-up within the same friend group would be.

He doesn’t dare open that door. Doesn’t dare show Yoongi that he does entertain the thoughts of the two of them, truly together.

“But I slept during their movie.”

“We can go watch a horror film next time.”

Does he dare ask if “next time” means they’re going to keep this going for a second year? Does he dare ask why Yoongi doesn’t want their November date to be just the two of them?

“So, depressing low-budget movie or horrifying movie? Weren’t you asking about romantic movies right before I fell asleep?”

Yoongi’s expression grows even more serious.

There’s no more delaying it. Namjoon sits up, finds out they’re sitting much too closely together — there’s no actual space between them. It doesn’t seem as if he’s put any distance between them at all. Yoongi barely reacts, as if Namjoon were still all over him.

“I thought we should do something low-key, not stressful, this month. I mean, you haven’t said anything, and this isn’t me prying, not at all, but…” Finally, Yoongi’s intense stare settles somewhere far away from Namjoon. “You seem like there’s something on your mind lately. I worry if you’re overworked, or if there’s something troubling you that you can’t share with me. Just wanted our time off work together to be as comfortable as possible. You know?”

Namjoon doesn’t really know, because he’d worried about what this setup had meant for most of the weekend, effectively ruining Yoongi’s intentions to put the least pressure possible on Namjoon.

“Oh…” Namjoon licks his lips. They’re too dry. He should start applying more chapstick, the nights have grown sharply colder lately.

In his throat, the confession is stuck. That he’s been worrying about them. That he wants to be with Yoongi, but can’t get a read on him. That he really, honestly, loves him like crazy. That he feels more like himself whenever he slips that damn silver ring on that silver necklace around his neck. That there’s no greater joy than knowing he has something planned with Yoongi, and riding the elevator out of work together.

That he doesn’t really think that their friends are disgusting anymore. That he seriously wants all of that with Yoongi. They don’t have to share it with anyone else, but he wants to express his feelings fully to Yoongi at least.

Namjoon says nothing, and Yoongi says, “Let’s get ready for bed,” without even looking at Namjoon.

Just like in October, they hadn’t discussed any sleeping plans. This time, however, the sun has barely just set. It wouldn’t take any time at all for Namjoon to get back home. It’s Sunday evening, he needs to get ready for work in the morning — no skipping out this time. There’s no reason for Namjoon to sleep over.

Nevertheless, Namjoon wordlessly follows Yoongi’s directions, just like last time, though this time he hasn’t had a sip of alcohol. His mind is sharp and focused as he uses Yoongi’s shower products, as he puts on Yoongi’s clothes, as he wraps himself in Yoongi’s comforter while he waits for him.

His phone reads that it’s barely past eight by the time Yoongi joins him in bed. They hadn’t even had dinner, hadn’t even discussed it — though their lunch had been quite late.

Namjoon thinks this might mean that Yoongi wants to cuddle up in bed together, as soon as possible. Unfortunately, Namjoon is embarrassing and awkward and asks him point-blank.

“Why are we already going to bed?”

Yoongi doesn’t immediately answer, seems busy with his phone settings before putting it down and pulling the covers up as far as possible.

“I’m just that good at reading your needs.” There’s a fleeting second of horror as Namjoon thinks Yoongi is telling him that he knows how much he enjoys being physically close to Yoongi, how much he’d thought of last month, when he’d woken up pressed against Yoongi. And then Yoongi adds, “Not like you literally sleeping on my lap didn’t give away how exhausted you are.”

“I am tired.”

He hadn’t meant to say it so emotionally, every syllable quivering weakly, soft-spoken and yet loudly proclaiming that he hadn’t meant tired as in wanting to sleep. He had meant tired from the emotional stress of keeping his feelings to himself as they grew closer and closer with each passing month.

His words had been tight, tense, under the same pressure Namjoon was under.

Yoongi turns onto his side, hands curled comfortably under his cheek.

“Maybe you need a vacation.”

Sympathetic. The words of someone who, just like Namjoon, probably couldn’t recall the last vacation they had taken from work.

But…

“I’m not tired from work.”

Yoongi reaches out, no hesitation, squeezes Namjoon’s shoulder warmly, affectionately. Namjoon doesn’t even know if he can pose simple gestures like those towards Yoongi anymore. Not that he was naturally touchy, but the thought of reaching towards Yoongi to show comfort is borderline distressing now.

“You can tell me if something’s wrong.”

He almost does. He squeezes his tongue between his teeth, tortures himself with rapid-fire images of how poorly pouring his heart out this instant could go. Yoongi probably wouldn’t kick him out. And then they’d just stay completely awake through the night, both horrified by the knowledge that Namjoon would fall for someone who’d shown him an iota of affection, with the clear intent of mocking their friends; nothing else.

He probably could tell Yoongi. And Yoongi probably wouldn’t make it horrible for him. But he doesn’t want to go through that.

“I’m just tired of myself,” Namjoon finally supplies, with an offbeat laugh.

Yoongi’s hand doesn’t move away. It seems he’s given the wrong answer, because Yoongi appears more concerned.

“Joon… What was it that actually bothered you in the movie?”

“A leaf floating on the ocean,” Namjoon repeats from the film, as if he’d been waiting for hours to blurt it out just like that. “Isn’t that terribly lonely? Being that far from anyone who understands what it’s like to be a leaf? Just surrounded on all sides without an end in sight, knowing you’ll never make it to shore? He was constantly around people, but it was so lonely, wasn’t it? It didn’t seem like anyone around him cared about him at all.”

Yoongi’s hand goes somewhat limp over his shoulder. The room is too dark, Namjoon’s eyes haven’t adjusted well enough to read Yoongi’s expression.

His voice though is clear in its intensity.

“We wouldn’t leave you stranded in a seaside town all by yourself, you know? We’d be there in a heartbeat. We wouldn’t let strangers treat you that way. And we wouldn’t ever be tired of you, ok?”

“Ok, but…”

But the movie had started when Hyukjin had been dumped. And everything that happened after seemed tinted by that heartbreak. What would Namjoon do when Yoongi finally breaks his heart?

“But sometimes it feels like I’m that alone,” Namjoon completes softly.

It’s embarrassing to admit. It even feels cruel to tell Yoongi, who spends the vast majority of his time by Namjoon’s side.

Yoongi grips him by the shoulder again, but this time to pull him closer and into his arms. Truth be told, he can probably keep count of how many times they’ve hugged like this on both his hands, yet the embrace now comes as no surprise. Namjoon settles in easily, pressing his face to the space right between Yoongi’s clavicles, as if he were familiar with the position — he truly isn’t.

“Well, there’s always someone you can share those feelings with, alright? Doesn’t matter the time of day, call me, knock at my cubicle wall, I don’t care. I’ll listen.”

“I know.”

“I mean it,” Yoongi presses right away, his tone much more urgent than the careful way in which he was holding Namjoon now. “And I’ll do the same with you. Fair is fair.”

“It’s not fair. Because you process things so well, and I never see you struggle, and… And I worry about so much. And I want you to like being around me, I don’t want to be dragging you down.”

It’s quiet for a while after. In a way that Namjoon can tell Yoongi’s being pensive, mulling his next words over. Namjoon doesn’t really mind. He tries to focus on the way he feels Yoongi’s chest expand and depress against him. He tries not to turn his own words over and over in his mind as he waits. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly spewing all his uncertainties onto Yoongi, but he almost wishes he could fall asleep before Yoongi even follows up. He wishes this could be the end of the conversation.

However, he’s not even a little sleepy when Yoongi finally speaks up.

“You know how I didn’t like you much back in university?”

Namjoon presses his forehead with more force against Yoongi, audibly groans.

“Yes, thank you. I know that very well.”

“Right, I thought you were so fake, always too enthusiastic, and determined —”

“And idealistic,” Namjoon completes, the one word that had always stuck out of Yoongi’s rant about his first impression of Namjoon.

“You were really principled and loud about it, you felt like a bad main character of a book that would have to be disillusioned by the end of it. Then we were both hired here, and I had to actually get to know you. And turned out you weren’t fake at all.”

“That I was just that annoyingly idealistic?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi answers, and his laughter feels even better than usual with the way Namjoon’s head is resting against his chest. “You believed everything you said. And it just turned out that I met someone who sees the world with such bright colours, and who’s actually excited to engage with all of it.”

Namjoon’s stomach feels heavy. Was Yoongi about to tell him that he’d lost that joie de vivre? That Yoongi had been worried because Namjoon had grown into a different and bleaker person?

“So what? Are you saying I finally got disillusioned?”

“No Namjoon,” Yoongi answers slowly, clearly exasperated. “I’m saying you don’t often see me struggling, because I like being around you so much. The world always feels and looks so much better when we’re together. Ok? So if you need to open up to me about what you’re struggling with so I can bring some of that ease you just naturally bring to me… So be it. That’s still fair.”

Namjoon has a hard time detangling Yoongi’s words to make sense of them. He thinks of pulling back, looking into Yoongi’s eyes to get a better sense of what he’d just expressed. He can’t bring himself to, can’t bear to pull himself away. If he stays tucked in close like this, without pulling back, maybe it’ll be more acceptable for him to fall asleep in Yoongi’s arms — no questions asked. Yoongi had been the one to pull him there in the first place and he’d just never moved after, that’s it.

“So you really like being around me?”

That sounds wrong. He prepares to be corrected, readies himself for the embarrassment.

“If I had to pick one person to be around, it would be you.”

The statement stuns him. His heart feels as if it stops, before it picks back up in triple-time.

“There’s no way that’s true…”

Yoongi squeezes him tightly, and then rests his chin over Namjoon’s head.

“Yes it is, you big baby. Just sleep for now. We can have a big breakfast tomorrow, and you’ll tell me how you’re feeling then.”

Namjoon nods, even though he doesn’t feel like Yoongi was waiting for his answer. He never pulls away, but neither does Yoongi.

December 14th, 2021

“Namjoon!”

Yoongi, sounds like he’s been searching for him. Odd, given that Yoongi is rarely in the office this early in the day, let alone wandering away from his actual desk.

Despite the oddity, Namjoon only grunts in acknowledgement. His eyes feel strained as they stay focused on the espresso machine, he forces himself to bat his eyelashes a few times.

There’s nothing between the call of his name and the sudden sensation of Yoongi’s chest against his back aside from that quick blinking of his eyes. Even though Yoongi had in fact called for him, Namjoon’s positive there would have been no question who it would be crushing him into a back hug like this had he approached silently. Still, he’s surprised by his own lack of reaction, his quick acceptance that Yoongi had decided to engulf him into a hug in the middle of their floor’s kitchen.

Yoongi’s arms wrap securely around his middle. The way Yoongi’s chest is stretched out against his back makes it obvious that he had forgone the combat boots today, and had raised himself to the balls of his feet to prop his chin onto Namjoon’s shoulder.

Namjoon makes an attempt to slouch his posture to help Yoongi, but does his best to make it as least apparent as possible, afraid of offending Yoongi. If Yoongi does notice, he says nothing of it, even presses his cheek to Namjoon’s. His eyes are still on the espresso machine, but the fullness of Yoongi’s cheek gives away how widely he’s smiling.

“Good morning. Happy Hug Day.”

Namjoon starts blinking rapidly again, blames it on how dry his eyes are. He should put his glasses on once he gets back to his desk.

He’d forgotten it was the fourteenth. He’d only thought it would be a miserable, exhausting Tuesday. He hesitates, hand itching to pull his phone out of his pocket to check if any of their friends had brought it up. He’s sure they’d spoken about how annoying their friends were about Hug Day before, but… he doesn’t remember any notifications this morning. Instead of pulling his phone out, he crosses his arms over Yoongi’s. He’s not sure if it’s a self-protective movement, or if he’s trying to keep Yoongi from moving away.

“Is this how couples usually hug?”

When’s the last time he’s received a back hug? He distinctively remembers Taehyung hugging Yoongi from behind like this not that long ago, before their Green Day date, if he’s not mistaken. In fact, Taehyung seemed like the master of giving back hugs. But when had he ever given Namjoon one of those? He can only think of short hugs, where Taehyung pats him on the back awkwardly before quickly pulling away.

Namjoon must be pretty low on the scale of how huggable one can be.

“It’s how I hug,” Yoongi answers cryptically.

“Don’t remember you ever hugging me like this.”

“Admittedly, I thought you’d turn around and we’d just hug face to face, but you’re like in zombie mode right now. So, this works, too.”

Yoongi is still stretched out behind him, still has his cheek pressed against Namjoon’s, like this is all very habitual.

“Do you think I’m like… not very huggable?” Namjoon asks shamelessly.

It’s very easy to feel Yoongi’s full-body sigh in the position. Nonetheless, he doesn’t expect Yoongi to turn his head and press a haphazard kiss to his cheek.

“You’re fine, Joon. Make me a cup, too, ok? I’ll be at my desk.”

Namjoon nods his head, doesn’t know if Yoongi sees it, but is too distracted by how heated his face feels to correct himself and vocalize his answer.

Yoongi’s apparent forwardness doesn’t leave his mind all day long. He finds himself turning on his phone screen over and over during the day, so much so that he needs to start charging it just after lunch time.

He waits for someone in their friend group to share their love day’s escapades. Nothing. It’s particularly debilitating to be faced with the picture Jungkook had taken of them whenever he turns on the screen.

They hadn’t shared anything in their group in November. In October, all he’d been able to share were drunken ramblings. In September, Jungkook had taken their pictures; but it only dawns on Namjoon now that he’d never shared the results of that photoshoot through the group chat. And even if they had broadcasted what they would be getting up to for Green Day, they’d never posted any pictures. Just as they’d stayed completely silent for Silver Day.

In fact, after they’d first kissed, they’d never again done anything spectacularly or publicly enough to have their friends even think of the possibility of them being disgusting.

Had Yoongi sensed that something was off with Namjoon after June? If he had, why hadn’t he just put a stop to all of this? Why even hug Namjoon in their office kitchen like that, why kiss him on the cheek?

It’s so distracting that Namjoon just eventually puts his earphones in, drowns his thoughts out with loud music, and forces himself to work speedily to catch up with all of the time he’d wasted throughout the day.

When he logs out for the day, he finds Yoongi in his cubicle, feet kicked onto the desk, screen dark in front of him.

His heart lurches, or maybe it soars — he can’t tell. However, there’s one obvious truth; Yoongi had been waiting for him to leave for the day.

Yoongi’s wearing an outfit Namjoon’s seen tons of times before. A dark sweater with dark purple stripes, unremarkable black pants, white sneakers. Still, Namjoon can’t help but to think he looks great. Albeit worn out from the day, Yoongi has this fierce energy that transcends just about any situation. It doesn’t matter how ordinary his setting or outfit.

“Ready to head out?”

It’s not that late at all. They pass a number of offices still occupied on their way to the elevator. Despite this, he can feel Yoongi is just as tired as he is.

“Any evening plans?”

He’s hesitant to ask, a little scared to find out if they were supposed to go out on a date. Dates with Yoongi sound more stressful than anything else.

“A very long bath. Then food. In bed. Food not made by me.”

Namjoon laughs, partially in relief.

“Sounds well-deserved.”

“You?”

Him? Probably lose sleep thinking about what’s going on between us, Namjoon thinks bitterly.

“Maybe directly to bed?”

Yoongi hums thoughtfully, and Namjoon worries he might have somehow known what it was that Namjoon actually had on his mind.

They make it to the elevator, and Yoongi reaches for the call button. It’s not planned, but suddenly, Namjoon’s hand is around Yoongi’s wrist, pulling his hand away from the button.

“Hey, uh…” Yoongi quirks an eyebrow when Namjoon starts hesitating. Namjoon quickly looks down, feeling intimidated. “Just wanted to hug you, too, before we go?”

“Ah really? Right here in front of the elevator? What if someone else shows up to wait for the elevator?” Yoongi teases.

Embarrassed, Namjoon quickly drops his wrist. However, it’s a second later that Yoongi pulls him into a hug.

It’s comfortable, not too tight, warm. Though when Namjoon finds himself reciprocating, he can’t keep himself from squeezing Yoongi tightly to him. He really has to hunch this time to hide his face into Yoongi’s neck.

He’s hugging Yoongi too intensely, he knows that. It’s the sort of hug one would share at the airport before parting ways for a long period of time, maybe even for an indefinite period of time. Judging by Yoongi’s wheezy laughter, he’s noticed Namjoon’s intensity.

“Don’t worry, big guy, I’ll still be here tomorrow.”

Namjoon can’t find it in himself to say anything in response. He can’t even bring himself to break the hug until Yoongi pats him on the back insistently, in a universal gesture that the hug has reached its end.

He doesn’t really look at Yoongi in the elevator either, unsure why he’d decided to hug him like that, with the full force of his feelings. Nonetheless, Yoongi stays close to him in the elevator, leans his weight onto Namjoon’s side.

It’s nice in a way that Namjoon really doesn’t think he deserves.

December 24th, 2021

Namjoon goes to cross his arms over the partition between their cubicles, hesitates with his arms hovering just above it, then retracts them. This is why he usually lets Yoongi come to him. Yoongi looked mysterious and sharp when he stood by the partition, with only his intelligent eyes peeking over. Namjoon is too tall for that kind of charm, just feels awkward and too long-limbed. It’s the same even when he enters Yoongi’s cubicle, and he feels particularly disproportionate when he does, when Yoongi’s sitting down and Namjoon’s just standing around aimlessly.

Now, he clears his throat. His jacket’s already zipped up, bag slung over his shoulder. Most people had headed out early. Namjoon didn’t have much work at all, and thought he could afford to make a break for it in the early afternoon, too. Yoongi, however, seems comfortable, feet tucked underneath himself as he types away at an impressive speed.

“Yeah?” he shoots off to Namjoon, without ever really looking his way.

He’s fine with that. If Yoongi never looks at him once through this, maybe that’ll make everything about ten degrees less awkward.

“What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Yoongi provides in a sing-song tune.

Namjoon hasn’t thought this through. He’d barely managed to get any sleep last night, the end of the calendar year hanging heavily above his head, the promise that it would soon be Saint Valentine’s Day again pressing abnormally heavily onto his chest. He’d had the idea in that moment, when he’d wanted his mind to just stop and had felt like he couldn’t squeeze any air into his lungs.

He just needed a convenient excuse to get out of their arrangement now. So that they wouldn’t make it to February in this situation and they wouldn’t have to talk about it, and Namjoon could stop embarrassing himself with how ridiculously head over heels he was with Yoongi. He just needed that, no matter the means and no matter the cost.

That’s how he finds himself telling Yoongi, “I’m going on a date.”

Finally, Yoongi pauses his typing.

“Huh?” he swivels his chair to face Namjoon. “It’s not the fourteenth… We didn’t do Pepero day… So, I didn’t think we were doing Christmas either?”

“I’m going on a real date,” Namjoon explains furtively, just about ready to bolt before Yoongi fully absorbs the words.

Unfortunately, Yoongi doesn’t seem to absorb the words in any way Namjoon had planned for him to.

“Oh yeah? We’re going on a real date?”

The smile he offers Namjoon is great. Really, one of the best Yoongi smiles. Most of Namjoon rejoices, is ready to go with that. Yes, let’s go on a real date, you and me.

Inexplicably, another part of Namjoon has decided, without doubt, that Yoongi is not pleased by the insinuation. The smile must be scathing, the smile a predator wears before sinking its claws into its next prey.

In a continued moment of panic, fuelled by sleeplessness and at least half a year’s worth of confusion, Namjoon digs his heels in further, says, “I’m going on a real date.”

Yoongi’s smile stays for a moment longer. Stays even longer, even when his eyes distinctively lose that smiling shine.

“With who?”

And now Namjoon definitely recognizes the mocking twist to Yoongi’s smile.

Like an idiot, Namjoon replies with, “Not you.”

“Someone from work?”

“No, it’s not someone you know.”

Namjoon presses his palms against the partition. They’re almost wet with sweat now. He’s afraid he’s going to give off a stench of anxiety that’ll never air out from his cubicle and will permeate into Yoongi’s until Yoongi makes a request to human resources to swap spots on the floor.

Yoongi swivels his chair back to face his monitors. Holds the position for all of two seconds, a truly neutral expression painted over his features, before he swivels back and his whole face darkens.

“You’re not going on a date with any of our friends, and those are the only people you know outside of work people.”

“You don’t know that — ”

“Yes I do!” Yoongi snaps, his voice ringing out borderline hysteric. Namjoon readjusts his bag’s strap to disguise the way he winces away. “Unless you like lead a secret life in the four to six hours a day you’re not at the office. So? Do you?”

“Ok. We don’t work that much.”

“You don’t have to create a fake date to get out of our thing. You could just say so.”

“I’m not… So what? You thought like I’d never go on a real date ever?”

Instead of answering, Yoongi takes a deep breath, the kind that has his chest expanding further than Namjoon would think possible for someone of his size. He doesn’t watch the way his chest moves too closely though because Yoongi’s eyes are fixed on him, intensely so. The look is pitying.

Most of Namjoon is still arguing, pleading that Yoongi must have thought Namjoon would go on a real date with him one day; that’s what that smile had been about, right? He quashes that theory down and returns Yoongi’s condescending look with the best glare he can muster. It’s weak, but it’s something.

Yoongi breaks eye contact first, with a muted scoff.

“No, you’re right, Namjoon. You can do whatever you want. Present me to your mystery person whenever.” Tone still mocking. It’s obvious that Yoongi still very much knows that Namjoon isn’t going on any dates tomorrow.

Yoongi pulls a drawer open, hops off his seat, and approaches the partition resolutely. Namjoon can’t recover quickly enough this time, he takes a step back when Yoongi approaches. Yoongi, who still looks so cool and handsome with only his eyes peeking over the partition. Unceremoniously, he drops something onto Namjoon’s desk.

“Got this for Diary Day. Hands down stupidest day of the twelve. I hate using planners anyway, so please just take it.”

Yoongi turns back promptly, nothing more to say.

Namjoon approaches the diary. The cover is a Sanrio character he doesn’t recognize, but it’s a black cat with wide eyes. He thinks of the chocolate cat he’d bought for Yoongi nearly a year ago. It’s cute, simple-looking, but Namjoon doesn’t really want to look at it. He fidgets with the journal for a moment or two, then opens the same drawer Yoongi had yanked the planner out from in his own cubicle. He puts the journal down carefully, preciously, then shuts the drawer closed quickly.

The sight of the black cat made him feel a little sick.

The silence from Yoongi’s side is icy now. There’s no clattering of his keyboard, there’s no angry retorts, just a heavy silence. Namjoon approaches. his bag is starting to feel heavy over his shoulder, and he knows he’ll feel terribly cold when he finally heads out, having worn his jacket inside for far too long.

Nevertheless, he still wants to wish Yoongi a merry Christmas, wants to see one more of his smiles and bid him goodbye properly before heading home for the weekend.

Only, when he approaches fully, he spots the way Yoongi is angrily rubbing at his cheeks, eyes noticeably red and tears ephemerally crystalline over his cheekbones before being wiped away.

He flees. By the time he’s reached the elevator, he has a fair number of working theories.

Yoongi’s stressed about work, that’s all.

Yoongi’s stressed about work, so the additional inconvenience of having bought a gift for Namjoon unnecessarily had tipped him over the edge.

Yoongi’s angry that Namjoon had lied and had doubled down on the lie, even when Yoongi had clearly called him out on it.

Yoongi had teared up in relief that he didn’t have to pretend anymore, and had only looked angry because he was angry he had started crying at work.

…

Yoongi had thought Namjoon was asking him out on a real date and was humiliated when it had turned out to just be Namjoon’s weird excuse to stop going on monthly pretend-dates.

Namjoon jams the elevator’s call button repeatedly, slides in as soon as possible, then jams the button to close the doors, even before selecting the ground floor. He only takes in a deep breath once the elevator starts its descent.

When he exits on the ground floor, he finds it hard to take in his next breath. He stops before the elevator bank, pictures himself taking the elevator back up, finding Yoongi, making sure he’s alright, and then admitting to what’s really going on. Admitting that he’s been scared of putting it out there, but that he truly loves Yoongi. And it has nothing to do with their friends being annoyingly over the top in love, and everything to do with how he feels when they’re together.

It’s just that it might have just been work stress that had gotten that reaction out of Yoongi.

It’s just that he does feel great with Yoongi, but every in-between moment since the summer has continuously aggravated his levels of stress, until the very idea of a Saint Valentine’s Day in 2022 had become so panic-inducing that he’d been unable to fall asleep at night.

So, he heads home. Watches the updates from their group chat fly by during the weekend, but never once begins to type any kind of message of reply.

On Monday, Yoongi is all smiles, chatty like he usually is when he doesn’t have any imminent deadlines. Namjoon feels an overbearing sense of heaviness whenever he glances at his desk drawer, the one containing the 2022 planner, with the cute, wide-eyed cat. Otherwise, he feels lighter than he has in months.

They have a quick lunch two floors down, out on the patio, bundled up in their winter coats, and it’s the least stressful meal they’ve shared in ages.

And yet, Namjoon feels like he’s made a terrible mistake, has lost his grip on something potentially life-defining. He tries to ignore the feeling.

January 28th, 2022

“Kim Namjoon!”

“Sunbaenim!”

Namjoon springs up to his feet, before ducking into a quick bow. If he’s embarrassed that their senior had walked in on him slouching in his seat as he’d chatted away with Yoongi instead of working, Yoongi hardly seems to have acknowledged her arrival.

Yoongi continues to crunch into his shrimp-flavoured crackers, elbows posed over the top of the partition. Earlier, he’d rolled his chair over, and had kneeled up on the seat to spy on Namjoon’s veritable lack of motivation. With Seollal, they had a five-day weekend coming right up. No one was in the mood for work, not even Namjoon — despite his best efforts.

Soohyun looks flustered, but doesn’t spare Yoongi a glance.

“You worked on the Cabbage Project, right?”

Yoongi echoes the project name with a snort. Namjoon grins briefly, though he’s already floundering for a notepad to write down whatever it is Soohyun wants. He also thinks the name is silly, but project names always were in their department when they were subject to conflict of interest screens.

“Yes, I did a few things for it earlier this month.”

“Ok, great. Then we need you in this meeting right now, ok?”

“Ok, ok, I’ll be right there.”

Namjoon’s scrambling now. He’d meant to clean up his desk this afternoon, but then he’d been distracted by Yoongi’s chatter, and now finding a notepad that isn’t already filled up is proving to be a useless endeavour. The state of his desk is a proper reflection of how poorly he’s been managing his work lately.

“We have to go now, the meeting’s already started.”

Namjoon wipes the back of his hand over his forehead. He’s not even dressed well enough for any kind of meeting. He’d come to the office comfortably dressed, thinking he could have a day filled with administrative tasks and no real thinking. Now, he’ll be poorly dressed, and sweaty too.

Soohyun starts speaking, but Yoongi’s voice drowns her out before Namjoon catches anything.

“Well, you’re already late. You can give him a minute to grab his things. You didn’t even ask him about any scheduling conflicts, you just expect him to jump in without any preparation.”

“No, no, it’s fine, hyung,” Namjoon says weakly. Even though he still hasn’t found a notepad. Had his desk really gotten this bad? Or was it just the pressure of having his senior watching from his cubicle entrance?

“Min Yoongi, you’re…” A deep sigh. “I don’t have time right now. Namjoon? Let’s go?”

Desperate, Namjoon yanks the closest drawer open. The black Sanrio cat stares up at him. Oh, he’d meant to avoid opening this drawer, that’s right.

The agenda is brand new though, he can definitely squeeze any notes he takes in there. If the cover is unprofessional, it won’t be more so than his loose, relaxed outfit. He grabs the agenda and the nearest pen.

“Happy Seollal if you don’t come back in the next hour, Joon!”

Yoongi is grinning wide, voice teasing, but Namjoon can’t tell if Yoongi really is planning on leaving within the next hour. Namjoon would have, had it not been for this impromptu meeting.

As he walks away, he feels a stab of disappointment. They’d been chattering away, but Namjoon hadn’t asked anything important. Was Yoongi going to Daegu for the weekend? Would he see Jungkook at some point? Would he be interested in all of them getting together again, just like last year?

He resolves to call Yoongi if he’s gone when he makes it back to his desk, just as Soohyun starts briefing him. Despite her rapid pace, she sounds calm, nowhere near as stressed as Namjoon feels — even though he’s not entirely sure yet what the meeting will pertain to.

He only realizes that Soohyun had been dressed down, too, in a flowing flower-pattern dress, once they’ve made it to the meeting room, where one of the more senior members of the team is lounging in jeans.

Namjoon fits in, he isn’t dressed worse than anyone else. He slips into a seat, and lets himself fade into the background. There are five people in attendance, he’ll only speak up if he’s called on, especially as the second most junior person in the room.

He flips the planner’s cover open. There’s writing on the other side, a lot of it. For a moment, he’s panicked. Had he pulled it out recently and filled out all the pages already? Without even realizing it? Then, he realizes it’s Yoongi’s handwriting. At the same time, he starts registering different words dispersed throughout the text.

He feels more panicked than before. He nearly slams the planner shut, but instead starts flipping ahead. He sees the pages fly by, but he doesn’t really see them either.

Hoseok’s birthday, on the February page, is identified with a hand drawn flower with a big smile — clearly Yoongi’s work. He flips quicker, but his eyes catch the September spread, where the first is marked with a bunny drawing, and Namjoon’s day is marked with a tree, coloured in yellow.

Finally, he makes it to the note section of the planner.

He breathes out, it’s tense and loud, and Soohyun gives him a reproachful look next to him.

“That’s alright. Namjoon is right, none of us want to make this longer than it needs to be, so let’s get started?” Hyowon interjects, the more senior member of the team, the one in jeans.

Namjoon smiles, but it doesn’t feel like a smile. His palms feel too hot. He wants to go back to the first page. What kind of message had Yoongi left for him? How did those words his brain had picked up on fit together? What if Yoongi had assumed he’d read the words over a month ago and Namjoon’s been embarrassing himself all this time?

The meeting is, plainly put, painful. It doesn’t go for longer than half an hour. Just the same, it feels like the longest meeting of Namjoon’s life. His fingers toy with the upper corner of the pages, where the black cat is pictured, sitting cutely. The thought of Yoongi’s message doesn’t leave him once throughout the meeting. Only the fear of the words keeps him from turning back to the first page.

Thankfully, he only needs to speak once in the meeting, but that too is painful. Actually requires Namjoon to confess that he hadn’t been listening when all eyes fall on him and the silence drags.

“I missed that, sorry.”

“Will you make the redactions to the documents we received on Wednesday?” Hyowon repeats.

He doesn’t seem annoyed, but Namjoon is annoyed at himself. Annoyed that he almost misses the request a second time because his fingers are still playing with the edges of the pages, his mind focused on the words he’d picked up on earlier.

“They’re on the shared drive?”

Hyowon doesn’t even give a vocal answer, just gives a short nod.

Namjoon makes a note of the request. It feels wrong. He shouldn’t write anything without knowing what Yoongi had written in the first place. What if he’d cursed the diary? Namjoon would deserve it.

He only realizes the meeting’s come to an end when he’s the last one left seated at the table. It’s a relief, because Namjoon had thought he might have ended up sprinting out of the room mid-meeting.

Soohyun lags behind, her face friendlier than before. Namjoon senses she may feel bad about calling on Namjoon without warning after what Yoongi had said.

“Are you going home to your parents tonight?”

Namjoon should answer. He should ask about her own plans…

But then they’re walking out of the boardroom, and the hallway leading to the bathrooms are right there, right within reach.

“Uh, sorry, can we talk about this on Thursday? I just really urgently need to get to the bathroom.”

“Oh?” Her face, sometimes so hard to read, scrunches up in obvious worry. “You do seem a little unwell… Can I get you some water or something?”

His grip on the diary tightens. He thinks of asking Soohyun to dispose of it for him because it feels like he may just have a heart attack if Yoongi were to have left him a nasty message.

Even though he knows the words he’d already picked up on had no negative connotations to them whatsoever.

“Thank you, that’s very kind, sunbaenim. I know it’ll pass though, it’s really fine.”

“Alright…”

She looks unsure. He notes that she doesn’t move to catch up with the others as he turns into the hallway. He speeds away, breathing out a sigh of relief when he finds the men’s bathroom empty.

He heads into the farthest cabin from the door, jiggles the door handle a few times to confirm it’s locked properly, then leans back against the wall.

He’s thankful the cabin walls and door reach the floor. He wants to be absolutely alone and out of sight for this.

He stares down at the black cat cover.

“The sooner you open it, the sooner…” He doesn’t know how to complete the whispered words of motivation.

The sooner he can be on the same page as Yoongi, maybe. He hadn’t just given Namjoon the diary, he’d given him… whatever it was that had been written down. And that has been in Namjoon’s possession for quite some time. He couldn’t keep ignoring it now that he knew it was there.

Deep breath.

Joon,

Breath out. He glances up at the ceiling.

This setting is familiar, he can do this. He uses this bathroom at least once a day. Even the smell of the hand-soap lingering in the air is one that Namjoon knows well. It’s as comfortable a place as any other, he tells himself as he forces himself to continue reading.

I think we’ve really failed at being disgusting. I don’t think we ever got there, not even once. All our friends probably agree. That we’ve never been gross and have just been good at being together this whole time. It’s been a good year. It’s been good spending more time just you and me. You listen to me, keep me in mind, never seem tired of me no matter how many long hours we pull together.

And honestly I want you to know that I’m always listening to you, and keeping you in mind, too. And people are generally exhausting, but even if we spend a full day together, you never drain me at all.

It may be a little lame of me to confess this way. I guess I’ve thought a lot about why it is we aren’t just dating in the first place. I haven’t really brought it up because I can’t really tell with you. Do you like me or do you just treat me this way because you’re just that good of a person? Maybe it’s both. But because you’re that good, I kind of worry you wouldn’t know how to turn me down in person if it came to that.

He’s reading slowly, but he knows his eyes have skipped ahead faster than he’s been able to process. So, he knows the sinking feeling in his gut is justified. He’s afraid to read on. But, this far in, curiosity wins easily over his nerves.

Even when reading on means that his stomach is plummeting even further down.

You don’t need to say anything about this, ok? I’m not going to make you reject me. If you do want to give it a try, I think we would really be great. And we don’t have to wait for the one day a month to do whatever stuff we think may be gross, but is actually great when it’s us doing it.

Regardless of that, I’m looking forward to another year of working together. You can always count on me. Anything you need to talk about, that’s worrying you, that’s weighing on you, I’m here to take some of that weight. You’re a true friend and I’m grateful to have you. I love every moment we’ve spent together this past year.

-Meow Meow Hyung (Get it? Remember that chocolate cat you got me? That’s why I thought I’d close up the year with a Chococat diary. Genius, right?)

He laughs at the signature. He thinks of that cat made of chocolate, of the expression on Yoongi’s face as he’d shared that his friends had given him that nickname. That had nearly been a year ago. The thought of giving the chocolate to Yoongi had been as terrifying as thinking of reading this note had been.

His laughter cuts off. He reads over the letter once more. Then reads one specific paragraph over. You don’t need to say anything, Yoongi had written. And then Namjoon had said nothing, not knowing that the gift had contained a message at all.

He reads the letter again. Yoongi had said that Namjoon was good. It’s a ridiculous notion when confronted by how good Yoongi’s letter is in the first place. He can’t explain how, or break it down exactly, but Yoongi’s letter was without expectations, no pressure, no hidden intent, simple honesty and genuineness.

Namjoon’s heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest with how wildly it’s racing.

He hadn’t shown any of Yoongi’s honesty. Hadn’t shared any of his thoughts or feelings about how they fit together, not once.

The bathroom door must have opened at some point earlier on, but Namjoon must not have heard it, because suddenly there’s a call of his name.

Of course it’s Yoongi, because who else would it be searching for him?

He wants to answer, ask him to just head out for his vacation, but his tongue feels weighed down. Weighed down, the same way all of Namjoon feels in that moment.

“Namjoon…? Do you think you could be having some kind of attack? Soohyun told me you seemed really freaked during your meeting. And I can hear your breathing… Why don’t you try holding your breath in before letting it out slowly, ok?”

Not ok. Because Yoongi wasn’t all talk. He really was as good as his written words were, maybe better.

Namjoon thinks of the way Yoongi had smiled at him so brightly and without reproach, after the Christmas weekend. Like he’d been genuinely eager and happy to see Namjoon again, even though Yoongi must have thought he’d read the letter and hadn’t wanted to give them a try.

“Namjoon, come on. At least unlock the door? You’re not well.”

“No, I’m fine,” Namjoon chokes out.

It’s only then, as he pushes himself to reply, that he realizes he feels a little faint, that his breath is much too short.

“It’s not worth you panicking. Soohyun told me it was just a housekeeping meeting. You did fine.”

“I know, I’m fine,” Namjoon repeats.

A short silence before Yoongi replies, filled out with Namjoon’s hiccoughing breaths as he tries to regulate his breathing.

“Then why are you locked in the bathroom?”

“I have food poisoning.”

A longer silence, during which Namjoon thinks of all the times he’s tried to pass feelings of inadequacy and distress as food poisoning or bad digestion. Enough times, he knows, that Yoongi knows the pattern, too.

“Do you want to come over and stay at my place tonight?”

Yoongi’s voice is quieter, more careful. Overall, frightening. Because Namjoon remembers falling asleep in Yoongi’s arms, remembers how perfectly good it feels to spend the night at Yoongi’s. And he’d spoiled that feeling all by himself — the feeling of being just the two of them — in a thoughtless moment of panic that he has refused to face for the last month.

“No.”

It’s plaintive, and there had definitely been more he’d wanted to add to the single word. However, once it’s rung out, yet another careless rejection, Namjoon can’t bring himself to moderate it or control the damage. He leaves it at that.

“Ok…” And now, Namjoon can tell, even Yoongi’s struggling to find fitting words. “Maybe… what if I asked the head of the department to bring someone in to give a seminar on stress management or something?”

“No, it’s fine, hyung.”

“If it’s this heavy, Joon, let’s just switch companies. What do you think? I’ll go with you, we can work somewhere that’s less stressful.”

Namjoon turns his head away from the stall door, sure his facial expression is not a pretty one. Even though Yoongi’s already out of sight. He doesn’t know how to explain to Yoongi that the stress used to be manageable, but the stress of their relationship had piled atop it until everything had splintered. He doesn’t want Yoongi to know he’s the biggest source of stress for Namjoon, not when he was good to the point of offering to uproot his professional life to make Namjoon more comfortable.

“I’ll be better after the weekend.”

He presses the journal against his stomach. He wants to feel determined, to promise himself that he would fix this confession situation before coming back to work on Thursday. For now, it only feels hopeless.

On the other side of the stall door, Yoongi kicks his foot against the ground. He must be unsure too, searching for the right words or course of action.

“I’ll have my phone close. Just call if there’s anything.”

Yoongi knows he won’t call, Namjoon can hear it in his voice.

Namjoon doesn’t say more, only presses the planner harshly against his stomach, until he almost feels sicker than before.

January 30th, 2022

There’s a knock at the door. He pulls his earphones out, feeling worn out and a little groggy, just as his sister peeks her head into his bedroom.

“Some handsome guy’s here to see you.”

His heartbeat picks up. In a truly embarrassing display, he smashes a pillow down over the open journal in front of him. Even though the journal is still blank. It had been his laptop that had acted as the receptacle for his countless ideas. And even those, he’d erased over and over again, leaving behind an equally blank document.

He jumps out of bed, mortifyingly aware that it’s the first time he’s done so today. He hasn’t yet shaved, or brushed his teeth, or even thought of clothes outside of the old Christmas-themed pyjamas he keeps at his family home.

His mind, cruelly, offers the image of Yoongi, expectantly waiting for him at the front door. Yoongi who would see him like this, so close to lunch time already, helpless and unpresentable.

And then Geongmin opens the door wider, and he spots the smiling face hovering behind her.

It’s Taehyung.

He affords himself a few seconds to groan at the fact that his brain had translated “handsome guy” to Yoongi.

“Oh. He’s alive, but barely,” Taehyung comments, waving at Namjoon warmly once their eyes meet properly.

“Tell me about it. He hasn’t helped our parents with a single meal yet. Got here yesterday morning, and he’s only come out to shovel food into his mouth and then raced back up here. Like, maybe twice so far.”

“Is your little sister ever this disrespectful to you, too, Tae?”

He pushes a hand through his hair. It’s too late to try to save face now. He slumps back onto the bed. Though he does push the pillow down with more force onto the leather-bound journal.

“No way. I may be as awful as you for making food, but I always do the dishes.” Taehyung turns to Geongmin, a polite, overwhelmingly warm and friendly smile painted over his features. “It was great meeting you Geongmin-ssi, thank you for showing me the way. I won’t be long, and Namjoon will show me out afterwards.”

Leave it to Taehyung to ask someone to leave him alone in the friendliest of manners. He can tell his sister is not entirely fooled, gives him a disapproving look — as if it were Namjoon chasing her out of his room.

He knows she must be curious, must want to eavesdrop. He hasn’t been the best of guests so far. Even if this still was very much home to him, and it was the holidays. His mind was just too preoccupied to interact with his family properly. He could hardly focus on any of the chatter whenever he emerged from his room.

In a testament to that, he misses his sister’s departure, eyes dazed as his mind recites Yoongi’s written words back to him. He only realizes that a moment has passed when Taehyung’s hands land on his shoulders, his friend leaning in close behind Namjoon to peer at his laptop screen. Even though the document is blank, Namjoon still rushes to dim the brightness of the screen.

“So?”

Taehyung’s smile is easy, he nearly crawls over Namjoon to take a seat on the bed, too. Namjoon wishes it were easy for him too, that he could just confide faithfully, without fear of being judged.

“So, you tracked down my family home?”

“Nah, don’t you remember? The first year we worked together at the museum? I asked for your address to send your family a Seollal gift? I guess I became less and less polite the longer I knew you.”

It doesn’t get a smile out of Namjoon, who is still preoccupied, eyes set on the pillow before him.

Initially, he’d wanted to order a Sanrio planner for express delivery. Chococat was definitely some kind of embodiment or stand-in of Yoongi. He’d thought it could be charming if he could replicate that. Scrolling through Sanrio characters hadn’t proven helpful though, and Namjoon had been left pondering over his total lack of cuteness.

He’d sure been lucky in the first place that Yoongi had fallen for him. He’s already well on his way to convincing himself that Yoongi has moved on. On the one hand, it’s extremely painful. Dagger through his ribs kind of painful. On the other hand, it makes the entire process of writing a confession back less stressful. If it was already doomed to fail, there was no use worrying over the execution.

In the end, he’d retrieved an expensive leather-bound journal he’d purchased at a market over the weekend years ago, at the time intent on scribbling poetry into it. The journal had been left at his family home, forgotten in his bedroom library.

Taehyung elbows him, gives him a confused frown.

“Ah, sorry, Tae. Why did you say you were here again?”

“I haven’t…” He sticks his tongue out between his lips, obviously concentrated on putting his words together carefully. “You haven’t answered to anything in the group chat in a couple of days, and… Well, to be really honest, Yoongi-hyung’s been pretty worried about you? He said you’d been unwell at work, so, uh…”

His voice peters out slowly. Namjoon locks his jaw as he tries not to overthink the admission. Did this mean Yoongi thought he was no longer the one Namjoon could confide in?

The thoughts don’t fade. Resigned, Namjoon yanks his bedside table drawer open and more or less throws the Chococat journal at Taehyung. He hadn’t meant to throw it, but his hold had slipped in an uncoordinated move. Judging by the way Taehyung bites his lip to keep the laughter at bay, that much had been obvious to him, too.

“What’s this?” Taehyung prompts, reminding Namjoon that he hadn’t given a single word of reply yet.

He clears his throat.

“Diary Day. From hyung.”

“Diary Day?” Taehyung sounds curious as he turns the journal over, observing it carefully. “That was a while ago, no? I always make Jimin those personalized calendars. You know, where the picture each month is a picture of us from the last year? You’ve seen it, right?”

“Yes, Tae. You only show me every year.”

The thought of the horrendously tacky calendar was… less horrendously tacky now. More endearing. Something he wishes he could make for Yoongi. There just aren’t enough decent pictures of them together, sadly.

“It’s… cute?” Taehyung tries, hesitantly.

“Just…” Namjoon hesitates, too. Unsure if it was right of him to share Yoongi’s love note, but deciding that he needs his friend enough for Yoongi to one day forgive his transgression. “Take a look at the first page, please.”

He doesn’t have to ask Taehyung twice. And Taehyung clearly reads the note carefully, falling completely silent. While he does so, Namjoon embarrassedly removes the pillow from his own open journal, the one now meant for Yoongi.

When Taehyung eventually shuts the planner closed, he gives Namjoon a serious look.

“Meow meow?”

Namjoon groans, but that easily turns into nervous laughter.

“Please don’t use that, if you do, I think that will truly seal the end of anything between us…” Taehyung’s lips had quirked upwards at first, but now his face was back to blank. The same intimidating expression that strangers tended to misunderstand when they first met him. “Uh… so like? You’re not more surprised that we weren’t actually dating?”

Taehyung shrugs, returning the journal patiently.

“I mean, Jungkook told us. Like a really long time ago.”

“You acted like you didn’t know though.”

“So did you? I mean, sounds like he didn’t know what was up with you? And didn’t you tell Jimin you didn’t know what was up with him either?”

His jaw clenches, briefly annoyed as he considers the fact that any piece of the puzzle he’d handed to one of his friends, had been shared amongst all of them.

“Well, anyway,” Namjoon bites out, then breathes in through his nose to settle himself before continuing more passively. “He gave this to me like, right before Christmas, and you saw that he wrote to just say nothing if I was turning him down, right? But… yeah I’ve only discovered the note on Friday.”

Namjoon shuts the leather-bound journal, stacks the Sanrio journal atop it, waits for Taehyung to process the information.

And then:

“You what?”

“I only opened it, like, before yesterday.”

Taehyung steals back the journal, flips it back open. His eyes scan over the note, much quicker this time.

“Ok. So. You’ve essentially turned him down.”

“Not on purpose, but… When he gave it to me, it was because I had pretty much called our deal off?”

“Oh…” Taehyung scrunches his nose in thought. “So, you didn’t like him that way after all?”

Namjoon could cry. Taehyung, eccentric, outside-the-box thinker, even he couldn’t process Namjoon’s action as anything but a rejection. He pulls his knees in, journal pressed between his thighs and stomach as he poses his chin over his knees.

“Of course I do, it’s Yoongi-hyung and god it feels like he’s the greatest love of my life and I’ve messed it all up? And it’s beyond destroyed now, because he wrote that, and it’s… amazing and so good, and I’ve said nothing for over a month? I feel like I’m dying. I feel like I can’t breathe.”

Taehyung’s hands squeeze his shoulders again as he chokes in his next breath, ears ringing, mildly aware that he was talking himself into yet another state of panic. Taehyung’s touch is grounding, but only somewhat. He wishes Yoongi were here. He can’t justify how that would make the situation any better, but even the idea of Yoongi’s presence is comforting.

He realizes that’s a contrast to how he’d felt through most of last year, when moments alone with Yoongi had kept him stressed and worried for days on end.

“But you’re going to write something back now, is that it? That second journal? A late present?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon mutters, feeling faint, and like maybe he’s started to sweat through his pyjamas with the panic.

“If anyone can fix something through words, it’s got to be you, hyung.”

“I don’t know… I messed it up through words, too.”

Taehyung doesn’t deny that, gives one last squeeze to Namjoon’s shoulders.

“How can I help? Want me to sit with you while you write it? Want me to review a first draft? Want me to deliver it to hyung?”

Namjoon shakes his head, ready to dismiss Taehyung’s offer entirely. The real problem is that he couldn’t get the words started, flowing. Because they mattered too much, and the awareness of that was paralyzing. Fixing that would just come down to Namjoon finally taking the plunge. It had nothing to do with Taehyung.

Then, he thinks back to not that long ago, the realization that others may not see him as someone they could approach with affection. The realization that someone like Taehyung hugged everyone around him, but hardly ever Namjoon.

He feels the way his shoulders curve in as he prepares himself to make the request. Thinks that maybe the pathetic slope of his spine may help Taehyung grant the favour.

“Could you just hug me before you go, maybe?”

His posture must have made his desires abundantly clear, because Taehyung back hugs him, the same way Namjoon had thought about before. Taehyung’s hands clasped over his stomach, chin rested carefully over his shoulder.

They stay like that for a long moment. Taehyung a completely still presence, Namjoon not making a move to reciprocate. Still, the contact is a comfort, and has Namjoon breathing a little more steadily again.

“Sorry… I’m like gross and sweaty.”

“You know I’m the last person who would care about that. I love you, Joon-hyung. No matter if you write this letter or not, and no matter what comes of it if you do. I’m here for heartbreak or for celebration, or whatever. The way you are for me.”

Namjoon nods, a little numbly. The words couldn’t be more heartfelt, but they still sting. There’s no reassurance or guarantee that Yoongi wouldn’t reject him. Only the truth that they can’t know what will happen, how Yoongi feels after a month of nothing.

Afterwards, Namjoon accompanies Taehyung to the front door, though he itches to crawl back into his bed, or maybe to the bathroom to finally clean himself up.

Just before Taehyung turns away, and before Namjoon can shut the door, Taehyung leans in closely.

“Just write it all out. You don’t need like eight drafts, and you don’t need to edit yourself. I’m sure he’d appreciate full insight into what you’ve been feeling, ok?”

February 3rd, 2022

Hyung,

I actually got this journal with my first paycheque. It was at Namdaemun Market, my mom scolded me for paying so much for it, but the leather is really good quality. Plus it looks pretty mystical, right? Like it has this grimoire charm to it, and I thought my writing would just be automatically boosted from being on these pages. The plan was to write a collection of poems throughout university, but as you can see that was kind of a fail.

I feel like the diary you gave me works a lot better as a Diary Day present, since you could flag all the important dates and all that. Which I get is the point of giving these at the start of the year. Even though I’m late, Seollal just ended, so this is kind of also a start of the year gift, right? Do what you want with it. You can burn it. Or you can try to boost your writing too through made up magical properties, that works, too.

At this point, those two first paragraphs sound really dumb and I wish I could have reviewed before just starting to write in here, but it is what it is, so let’s go on.

I didn’t open the diary you gave me until last Friday. Your note kind of freaked me out. That’s why I was weird before the long weekend, I hope you can understand. Not that there was anything freaky about it, that’s not what I mean! What you wrote was really incredible and really kind, and I felt like a damn idiot that I didn’t see it until then. Especially because you essentially wrote that my silence would mean one thing, when it really didn’t mean that, I’m sorry. Ok, these sentences are starting to look a little too long, I hope you’re still following.

I love you. I’ve known that I’d fallen for you since the summer. I’m sorry, I’ve been really scared to show it or to just say it. I can’t really make sense of it, because you’re just like this really safe, comfortable person to me? Genuinely always supportive, never judgemental, caring. So I don’t really know how I got this scared, but I was — I guess, am.

The thought of going through another year of going on dates that I can’t confirm are really dates at all or just jokes about our friends, that was scary, too. And worse was the thought of it just coming to an end when February came again. So, I guess that’s where I was coming from in December.

Look, I’m reading over what I’ve written so far, and I kind of sound like a jerk? I pushed you away without a very good reason, I failed to see your note, I couldn’t get you a proper diary, and it’s weeks late anyway and… And so I’m pretty sure this note is just going to convince you that you’ve dodged a bullet. But I just want to say that I really, really, really love you. You’re my favourite person. I’d gladly continue spending every day with you for the rest of my life. And if we could spend even more time together, well I can’t think of anything greater than that.

I’ve been acting selfishly, but I guess all I can do is to promise to be more considerate and to be more open with you. Otherwise, I realize you can get hurt in the crossfire of my actions.

I love you even if you don’t feel the same about me anymore. But I promise not to burden you with that. Just wanted to share some of my feelings with you. Even though… Yeah I don’t think I did a good job with that.

-Joon

Namjoon makes best efforts to forget the mess of words scrawled across the two first pages of the journal as he stands before Yoongi.

It’s late enough that the lights turn off whenever they stop moving for a period of ten minutes. He’s fairly confident that they’re the last ones in. An easy feat when most of the office hadn’t returned from their Seollal vacation, most of the staff preferring to take two days off to upgrade their five-day weekend to nine full days away from the office.

Namjoon hadn’t had enough work to stay this long, but he’d been waiting for Yoongi to finish work, so that he could offer him the carefully wrapped present, and then pressure him into reading it there and then to avoid another extended period of time of misunderstanding.

Yoongi hadn’t even taken off his hat or his coat to read it, had just slumped back into his work chair, facing Namjoon, and had read it without giving away anything, legs primly crossed.

Finally, Yoongi’s eyes move up to meet Namjoon’s. Still no hint to what he’s feeling.

“I’m usually a much better writer,” Namjoon blurts out. “You’ve seen some of the articles I’ve worked on… but, Tae had this advice that I should just write it out without editing, and alright, I admit it might have been a failed experience. Actually, I can prepare something else, with more structure, and you know, actual content like figures of speech.”

Yoongi’s eyes have fallen back to the text, Namjoon worries that he’s checking to confirm that the whole thing was just utter trash.

“Well… Thanks for agreeing to read it,” Namjoon says after more time has passed, and Yoongi still has yet to give him a reaction.

He’s aware that Yoongi had put no pressure on him at all when handing him his own confession, and that Namjoon just standing there creepily must be giving the exact opposite effect. That’s why he plans on leaving now. Not because he’s running away. Just because he’s overwhelmed with the realization that being there as Yoongi reads it had been a stupid idea.

But, he barely takes a step back that Yoongi’s eyes meet his fiercely, his voice snapping out for the first time since he’d gingerly unwrapped the gift.

“Did I say you could leave? Give me a break, Joon, this is kind of fucking hard to decipher.”

Namjoon stays put, but can’t bring himself to keep surveying Yoongi for a reaction, deeply embarrassed by Yoongi’s comment. When he’d read the note one last time before wrapping the journal, he’d convinced himself that it made sense, was readable, but of course he’d only needed to follow his own train of thought, no one else’s.

“You’re not a jerk.”

Namjoon looks up sharply at that, but Yoongi’s eyes remain on the pages.

“Well, I don’t know, I — ” he stammers out, though he’s not sure if Yoongi’s even listening or if he’s still focused on making sense of Namjoon’s unedited ramblings.

“The reason you couldn’t tell if we were actually dating or not… Wasn’t that because of me?” Yoongi’s eyes are still on the journal, his voice grows tenser. “I literally asked you to take me to one of your favourite art galleries on our second date, I think that’s pretty un-ironically romantic. And, every time, I kissed you first. I confused you.”

Namjoon’s surprised to realize that Yoongi sounds guilty.

“I kissed you back,” Namjoon insists. “And, uh, I gave you a bonsai. So that’s like, way more romantic?”

“I’m the one who’s like obsessed with taking care of it. And I framed that print, and I keep that picture in my bedroom, and… I treated your every gift like it really came from my boyfriend, you know?”

Namjoon clumsily pulls the chain and ring from beneath his sweater.

“I put the ring on a necklace so I wouldn’t lose it! My background picture on my phone is us!”

“I…” Their eyes meet for the briefest of moments, and then Yoongi visibly sets his eyes on one of the cubicle partitions. “I wrote that stuff for you before… before you… well, called this all off. Truth is, I felt really colossally stupid when that happened because —” Yoongi cuts himself off there, a tremor shaking through his sentence before he forces himself to continue. “Because I had tons of opportunities to be clear about how I felt. And you got spooked, well, I think because it was unclear? And, I don’t know, in that moment, it definitely felt like I lost my final chance to be clear with you.”

Yoongi drags his knuckles beneath his eyes, in a move that’s strongly reminiscent of the way he had brushed his tears away in December. Namjoon’s eyes widen as he processes the fact that Yoongi had genuinely cried at the prospect of missing their chance to be together. Even now, he’d teared up simply at the thought of that feeling.

Last time Yoongi had cried, Namjoon had simply fled. This time, he kneels before Yoongi, only grimacing slightly at the thought of how dirty the office floor may be.

He pries Yoongi’s hands away from his cheeks, as gently as he can manage with how Yoongi resists at first. Yoongi’s face, afterwards, more or less crumples, fat tears sliding down his cheeks uninterruptedly.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, hyung… Had I just held out for a few more weeks, I would have found out how you felt.”

Yoongi snorts, but it almost sounds like a sob.

“Well, who’s to say when you would have opened the damn thing, right?”

“I would have right away, you know that. I felt like I’d really embarrassed you before Christmas, and I kind of… didn’t want to be reminded? By the planner? I’m sorry.”

Yoongi’s hands rhythmically tense in his, as if fighting the urge to pull away to brush away the wet paths his tears had left behind.

“I’m sorry. For acting like this right now. It’s not like I’ve been sad. I’ve still been happy, your friendship is a really big part of my experience of being alive. The romance is really just… You know, like…”

“Secondary?”

“No,” Yoongi retorts sharply, looking a little irritated, as if he’d been in the middle of working out how to word it properly. “No, it’s like our friendship is rice, right? But the romance is like banchan.”

Namjoon ponders that for a moment, tries to make sure his response doesn’t just come out as a confused What?

“Are you trying to tell me that banchan is non-essential? Don’t know that my mom would agree.”

Yoongi’s hands tense up again, but when Namjoon looks up at his face, Yoongi’s giving him a full smile. The one where his eyes nearly shut, and Namjoon can see the pink of his gums.

“Oh, come off it, don’t tell me you ever make any when you eat at home.” Namjoon bites his tongue, because he already has enough trouble putting together a main dish. “Banchan are great and make meals way more enjoyable, I think. But, if I’ve got the rice, we can make something great with that. No side dishes needed. Right?”

Namjoon feels himself frowning. He’s the one who fights the urge not to pull his hands back this time, afraid his hands will become sweaty as he tries to figure out whether or not Yoongi’s comparison is a lead-up to a final rejection.

“But, uh… We could still make them, right? If it’s going to make the meal better anyway? There’s not really a downside to adding more to the table?”

He’s deeply aware now that he’s on his knees for this, voice small as he essentially hands his heart over to either be embraced or crushed.

Maybe Yoongi’s reached the same realization, or maybe Yoongi’s grown this well-versed in reading Namjoon’s discomforts, because suddenly he’s standing up and pulling Namjoon up alongside him. He only momentarily moves one hand away to set the leather-bound journal aside, before he’s reaching out for Namjoon’s hand again.

Yoongi’s smile is a little more demure now, a little complicit, as they face each other. The traces his tears have left behind are still there, but his expression is totally different now. Something that, Namjoon could convince himself, is loving.

“I’d say we spent the better part of the year preparing the ingredients in the kitchen. So yeah, I think we can plate up more onto the table. It’s about time we enjoy what we’ve been working on, no?”

Namjoon breathes in, feeling elated, feeling like he’s about to absolutely beam at Yoongi, but then breathes out and falters, eyes quick to look away in embarrassment.

“I’m not very good in the kitchen…” He clears his throat then, wanting to step out of the comparison to make sure he’s clear in his intentions, but Yoongi’s watching him so carefully that he’s almost sure he will manage to understand him no matter what. “At Christas, when I… Would you really want to eat at the table with me after that?”

Yoongi’s face grows serious, but his fingers slip in between Namjoon’s.

“I wouldn’t have slammed that diary onto your desk if that was the case. What did you think that was, me taunting you about what you’d missed out on? It was my desperate, last minute attempt to let you know how I feel.”

Namjoon stays quiet.

Yoongi continues with a sigh and a softer tone.

“Yeah, I didn’t like that you were lying, but I guess it was barely a lie with how obviously false it was… Otherwise, you were and are always allowed to reject me. I’m never going to hold it against you.”

“And you’d still want to be with someone who’s rejected you? Even though he wanted to be with you at the time anyway?”

It sounds stupid. And god does Namjoon feel stupid, stupid, stupid.

But then Yoongi is tugging him slightly closer.

“Yeah, I want to be with you. Don’t care what description is attached to you.”

It’s probably a good moment to kiss Yoongi. To be the one to kiss Yoongi first; it’s true that that hadn’t really happened yet. Instead, Namjoon steps forward, wraps his arms around Yoongi’s shoulders. It feels a little gauche, but then Yoongi wraps his arms around Namjoon’s waist, and squeezes tenderly — and all of it feels fine. Like an immense relief.

“I love you,” Namjoon finally says.

He thinks his voice comes out a little pained; and he supposes that he is. But it’s a sweet kind of pain, a sigh of relief after a long period of worry and tension. Yoongi’s hand moves up and down his back and he nearly melts right there.

“I know. I love you, too, Joon.”

The overhead lights go off. They hadn’t moved around enough for the sensors. Neither of them pulls away to activate the lights. They stay in the dark, the embrace intimate enough to erase any traces of awkwardness.

February 11th, 2022

Namjoon bites down. In the darkness, he’d mistaken the cucumber kimchi for the cheongpomuk. He’s not really sure how he could have managed that mistake, but he finds himself coughing at the sudden spiciness.

Yoongi gives him a mean look, expression and posture both made more aggressive by what Namjoon can only imagine is self-consciousness and defensiveness.

Namjoon accurately picks the cheongpomuk from the right container this time, ensuring that he’ll have to chew instead of answer.

“What?” Yoongi snaps out regardless.

His nose and cheeks are both a pretty blush pink now. His shoulders are up, but Namjoon doesn’t think that’s due to his mood, but rather that Yoongi’s trying to compensate for having foregone a scarf on his way out.

Namjoon shrugs, makes a show of chewing slowly.

“Nothing. Just, at least my mouth is warm now.”

“It’s not that cold,” Yoongi insists yet again.

“It’s pretty cold.”

“Listen here!” Yoongi points his chopsticks towards Namjoon, the twist of his wrist just shy of a dramatic flair. “I stayed up late. Like late, to make all of this. I could have been sleeping. You have no right to be this ungrateful.”

It had been quite impressive when Yoongi had dragged him to his home after work. And then Namjoon had just stood by as Yoongi had pulled out container after container and piled them up high into a thermal backpack. He’d easily recognized it as Hoseok’s, every zipper on the bag heavy with several coloured keychains.

It remained impressive. It’s just that it was also confusing that Yoongi had only prepared cold dishes and had demanded for them to have a picnic by the river.

They’d made it right on time for the sunset, which had felt romantic, yes. But night had fallen upon them in the next moment.

“I am grateful. Just don’t want you to lose your ears to frostbite. I like your ears. They’re the perfect size for your jawline.”

“I have no idea what that means, but please just eat and stop looking like you’re freezing.”

“I mean, it’s February, and nighttime. And I heard there would be a snowfall this weekend.”

Yoongi throws his chopsticks down onto the blanket he’d spread out for them. The move is again, just short of dramatic, but not actually angry. More like a comedic surrender. Namjoon’s proven correct when Yoongi immediately wraps his arms around himself.

“Ok, so it’s cold! It’s not that bad! It’s different and exciting, and then after we can cuddle at home until we’re warm again.”

“Oh yeah? So that’s the second part of the date?”

If he sounds fond, it’s because he is. Yoongi starts packing up containers with a huff and Namjoon hurries to dump different vegetables into the container he’d been using as his own bowl before pulling that in closer.

“I asked hyung what his favourite dates were, that were organized by Hoseok, right? And he said, picnic by the river. I’m not lying.”

“Ok, but I’m confident those must happen in the summertime.” Namjoon’s smile widens at the thought of summer, of still being with Yoongi by then and doing all the things other couples do when days are long and hot. “We could bike by the river, too, in summer. Maybe we could drive out of the city and go catch fireflies?”

“Would you chew faster already?”

Despite the hostile tone, Yoongi’s gaze has softened, as if he too is excited to think of a future together.

“But… it’s tasty and I want to enjoy it,” Namjoon says with a pout that he knows won’t be nowhere near as effective as Yoongi’s always are.

“Yeah, that’s why we’re packing it up, so you can enjoy it without risking my perfectly-shaped ears. Also, I’ll grill some meat to warm us up.”

The proposition is an easy bargain, Namjoon joins in on packing without complaint. Once Yoongi’s hoisted the backpack onto his shoulders, the accessory still so uncharacteristic on him with the bright colours and customization, Namjoon links their arms together and holds onto Yoongi’s hand.

Yoongi makes a face, but doesn’t actually move away. It’s cold enough that any onlookers would only think they’re walking this close together to preserve heat.

“It was pretty amazing to go on a date on a non-fourteen day.”

“Oh yeah?” Yoongi asks, sounding reserved, maybe a little self-conscious. “When I asked you over lunch, you looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

“I didn’t get that it was in addition to Saint Valentine’s. And my gift was at home, and you asked for right after work, and I felt stupid like… What if I was supposed to know we were celebrating today? Because it’s on a Monday? But, yeah.”

“I’ve heard a lot about this gift,” Yoongi teases, smile slightly mischievous.

Namjoon had only bought it a few days ago. He’d only told Jimin about it. Yet, somehow, it had become their group chat’s favourite subject.

“You’ll see on Monday,” Namjoon whispers, face warm despite the cold night.

“Also, here’s a secret you may not have been privy to. But… we are in fact able to go on dates on any day of the month. Even every day if that’s what we want.”

“Would love to see that. You going to take me out to the office day after day?”

“I’d leave the office at a reasonable time with you day after day if that’s what you were feeling up to.”

Yoongi’s building isn’t much further now, and Namjoon’s nearly warmed up completely. Maybe he could stick close to Yoongi as he prepares the meat to share some of that warmth.

Namjoon glances around briefly, then quickly pecks Yoongi’s cheek. His skin is soft and cold, and when Namjoon pulls back Yoongi’s face is fully bright red.

“Let’s just play it by ear. Like you said, any night can be date night. I don’t really mind if we have a week full of work, or a week full of dates.”

He feels too tacky to outright say it, that the we meant as long as we’re together.

He thinks Yoongi gets it, because he’s quick to plead out a soft, “Please don’t be gross.”

“Says the guy who made us freeze our asses just to find a pragmatic reason to cuddle.”

They laugh as they make their way into the building.

Later, come Monday night, it’ll be their friends asking them how their Saint Valentine’s had been; the need to advertise their dates to their friend group long forgotten.