Archive of Our Own

Namjoon had a terrible weakness for proposals. "It's just so touching," he had tried explaining to Hoseok -- and, indirectly, to Seokjin. "They've been together since high school. I can't believe it happened at work."

"It was work for you," Hoseok pointed out, smirking slightly. "It was a huge moment for them."

"Can relate," Seokjin cut in, clearly trying not to laugh.

"Have you had people propose here?" Namjoon looked around, almost expecting someone to propose right then.

"My old job," Seokjin clarified. "Before I started this place. Customer proposed to the bartender, bartender accepted."

"Were they dating?" Hoseok seemed fascinated. In fairness, Hoseok loved love, though he wasn't in much of a hurry to find it for himself.

"Nah," Seokjin replied easily. "We had a no dating customers rule that the bossman imposed. They found the loophole." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "It's not dating if you're engaged."

Namjoon laughed. "That's almost genius."

"Almost?" Seokjin raised an eyebrow. "They've been married for five years. I saw they're expecting their first child."

Hoseok whistled. "They're lucky it worked out. That was a big gamble."

"Well," Seokjin said, his ears turning a little red. "They'd been flirting for months. They probably knew something was there between them already."

Namjoon suddenly felt the bar was over-warm. "Can't relate," he said blandly, affecting a humorously guileless expression.

Hoseok's expression turned a bit sly. "Are you saying if someone proposed to you here, you'd accept?"

But instead of cheekily making a comment or joke, or even flirting outrageously with Hoseok, Seokjin's expression closed off. "I don't date customers," he said, not looking at Namjoon. "It's my rule here, too." Someone down the bar signaled, and Seokjin looked up, the stony expression melting away into his usual cheery demeanor, and he strode towards them.

"Namjoon," Hoseok said, his expression almost forbidding under the bar lights. "I'm sure it's--"

"Don't," Namjoon cut him off. "Just...don't. Please."

He saw Hoseok looking at him, eyes dark and expression hard to read. "Okay," he said at last.

Seokjin wandered back. "Oh, wow, this atmosphere."

Namjoon smoothed over his expression into something he hoped was genial. "Let's toast to that engaged couple. To their future."

"To their future," Hoseok and Seokjin echoed back.

But Namjoon could only think of his own future as he downed his glass, a future where he sat on this side of the bar, and Seokjin stood on his side, and the two would never meet.

"You could just ask him who the young guy is."

Seokjin tore his eyes away from where Namjoon was slinging an arm over his companion's shoulders -- in a blue tracksuit today, laughing at something the kid said -- and levelled a flat look at Yoongi. "And shatter the illusion of me as an all-knowing demigod trapped on this mortal plane to perform penance as a bartender? Never."

"Literally no one thinks that," Yoongi retorted, sipping his drink. He was wearing a beanie hat and his glasses today, and he looked a bit tired. Seokjin considered putting in an order of tteokbokki for him.

"Ok, but if someone did, I'd hate to shatter their illusions," Seokjin insisted, clearing away glasses and wiping down a spot that was just vacated. "It's for them, really."

"Right." Yoongi was obviously not buying it, but didn't press further.

Across the bar, Namjoon laughed at something the kid said and leaned into him bodily. The kid beamed, toothy and wide, the barbell over one eyebrow glinting in the bar lights.

"Do you think I should start wearing my earring again?" Seokjin idly touched his lobe, where his piercing was still there, though no jewelry was.

"Only if you think Tracksuit there would stop laughing with his probably-date and laugh only with you from now on. Oh wait, that's dating."

"I don't need this kind of sass," Seokjin replied mildly.

A couple of patrons came up and ordered drinks, and by the time they were served and squared away, Namjoon and the other guy were moving to get up and leave. The kid's clothes stretched as he moved to put on his coat, and Seokjin couldn't help but notice his muscle definition.

"I have abs, too," Seokjin muttered under his breath.

Yoongi, however, must be part bat. "Not that we could tell under those baggy clothes."

"I will deal with you in a moment," Seokjin fake-threatened, then strode over to where the other two were. "You're leaving already?"

"I'll be back tomorrow, hyung," Namjoon replied, tilting his head and smiling slightly. Seokjin watched his dimple appear and ignored the way his heart beat a little faster. "Just a long day. I gotta walk Jungkook-ssi home before I go." He gestured at the kid beside him. "This is Jeon Jungkook. We work together."

Jungkook -- Seokjin now had a name for his new mortal enemy -- smiled, his eyes shining. "Hey, hyung," he greeted without an ounce of politeness.

Seokjin sputtered. "Who said you could speak to me so casually?!"

Jungkook ignored him. "Rapmon-hyung," he said, speaking respectfully. "You don't have to walk me home." Suddenly, he looked very earnest. "In fact, I should walk you home! To protect you!"

Privately, Seokjin agreed, and hated this Jungkook kid for making good points.

"Ah, tsk, this friend," Namjoon said, shrugging. "If it will make you feel better, okay. You can take me home."

What a phrasing!

It wasn't lost on Jungkook, who turned just a bit pink. Then, this kid tilted his head towards Seokjin and winked outrageously. "Nice meeting you, hyung."

Seokjin smiled back, though perhaps it was more a baring of teeth, who could say. "Same, I hope to see you come back." What were white lies between enemies?

"Oh, you will," Jungkook agreed readily. "Rapm-- uh, Namjoonie-hyung has great taste. I'll definitely be coming back."

"Great!" Great, Seokjin thought darkly.

"We should go," Namjoon said, tugging at Jungkook's arm gently. "Bye, hyung, be seeing you."

Seokjin waved, then cleared the space where they'd been seated, wiping it down before wandering back to Yoongi.

"The kid's his coworker," Seokjin said without preamble.

"The kid had Namjoon's arm around his shoulders as they walked out," Yoongi replied without hesitation.

"We're enemies now," Seokjin declared, loading glasses into a tray and starting the dishwasher.

Many hours later, when the bar was nearly empty and the lights seemed dimmer in the late hour, Yoongi pushed aside his empty glass and asked the question. "Hyung. You're jealous. I know it. You know it. You do this every time Tracksuit brings a buddy to the bar who isn't the friend you buy those weird straws for. Just date him. Ask him out. He looks at you like you hung the moon in the sky, I am sure he'd say yes."

Seokjin sighed. "It's not that easy."

"It could be."

"Yeah. It could be." Seokjin had met Yoongi when the latter had pulled him back just in time for him to avoid being run over by a car. Yoongi had been a part-timer delivery worker for a restaurant, and Seokjin had insisted on paying Yoongi back by inviting him to the bar he worked at and feeding him.

The rest was history: Yoongi had been the first patron he'd poured a drink for when he'd opened Jin & Tonic, and Seokjin had been the voice singing the hook on the demo of Yoongi's first megahit song. They had no secrets between them.

"So why isn't it that easy?" Yoongi looked at him, patient and clear-eyed.

Seokjin dithered for a long moment. Then, he placed an empty shot glass in front of Yoongi, upside down. "Pass," he replied, in English, and wandered to where he was being flagged down by the last patron.

When Namjoon had hired Jungkook, the latter had looked at him with stars in his eyes. It was flattering! Namjoon had never been looked at by anyone like that -- certainly not by his brat of a sister (note to self: he really should call her) and she was even Jungkook's age!

However, six months into his working at the RKivist gallery, Jungkook had lost some of the stars in his eyes, and gained, instead, a certain degree of mischief.

"So," Jungkook said, rolling up the sleeves of his black button-down shirt.

"So," Namjoon echoed back. He was buttoning his own cuffs, the two of them changing in the employee area. If Namjoon hired staff of a different gender, he'd need to change the layout, he thought idly. A problem for Future Namjoon, he decided, tugging the sleeve into place.

"I've now met the infamous Seokjin-hyung." He had the sleeve rolled up to where he wanted it, just below his elbow.

"I dunno that he's infamous," Namjoon protested, straightening his clothes until he was immaculate. He reached into his locker for his glasses, having taken out his contacts already.

"You talk about him all the time," Jungkook pointed out. "And you're not normally that touchy with me."

Namjoon colored, feeling the heat in his cheeks. "Okay, well," he grumbled, not finishing the sentence.

Jungkook smiled. "Well, I think it worked," he said, dusting himself off. His hair was pulled into a quick bun, one stray lock having escaped and now brushing his cheek and jaw.

Why was Namjoon cursed to be surrounded by effortlessly handsome people? It really wasn't fair, he complained to himself, fussing with his slicked-back hair. "What worked? I wasn't doing anything."

"Uh-huh," Jungkook replied. "So you don't want to know that I think Seokjin was jealous?"

Namjoon turned so fast, he nearly gave himself whiplash. "What!"

"Hyung," Jungkook replied, half-laughing and half-exasperated.

"Okay, okay," Namjoon grumbled. He attached his magnetic name tag to his shirt, Jungkook mirroring his actions, and closed the locker door. "Fine. Maybe I was doing something."

"Well, Seokjinnie-hyung was watching the entire time we were there," Jungkook replied, falling into step beside Namjoon. "And he definitely got mad when I winked at him. And when you said you wanted me to take you home."

Namjoon colored further. "About that, I can't be so careless with my words in public."

"But I did take you home, hyung," Jungkook replied, all innocence.

"Quit that," Namjoon scolded, reaching for the front door to unlock it and turn the sign.

Later, while they packed up a purchased canvas for delivery the next day, Namjoon caved. "You really think he was jealous?"

Jungkook grinned. "You're sure there's nothing going on between you?"

"I'm sure," Namjoon said grimly. "He doesn't date customers."

"Do you want to date him, hyung?"

Namjoon paused, laying his palms flat on the surface of the box. They needed to nail down the wooden lid and it would be set for shipment. "I don't want to date him," Namjoon said. "I want us to count every star in the night sky and argue when our totals don't match at dawn. I want to demand a recount and count the stars in his eyes instead."

Jungkook looked at him, a long and canny stare that was half the reason Namjoon had hired him. For all that he acted young, there was a sharp mind behind those eyes. "That's not dating," Jungkook said softly.

"No," Namjoon agreed, reaching for the nail gun. "It's not."

That Jungkook kid appeared in the power tower next to him. "Bet I can do more pull-ups than you," he said.

Seokjin wondered if the kid was off his rocker. "What?"

"Go 'til you drop, let's get it," Jungkook said, reaching for the bars.

Well, Seokjin wasn't one to just accept defeat without making a token effort. He reached for the bar, too, grip just wide enough. "What do I get when I win?"

Jungkook grinned at him. "You'll find out if you win, old man." He began to pull himself up.

Seokjin paused his instinct to protest and, instead, smoothly pulled himself up until his chin was over the bar, again and again.

Eventually, Jungkook dropped. Seokjin kept going. "I could do this all day," he said, doing five more pull-ups just to rub it in, and then dropping down.

"Why does a bartender have to be so buff?" Jungkook looked impressed.

Seokjin couldn't help but preen a little. "Bragging rights. Why does an archivist need muscles for? You're just scanning old books or whatever, right?"

Jungkook's eyebrows rose. "What?"

"Namjoon works as an archivist. You work with him. What, are you a professional library book shelver? That's why you need the muscles, right, to lift atlases or whatever?"

Jungkook grinned. "You're funny, hyung. I get why Rapmon-hyung likes you."

Seokjin felt his ears get red. "Okay, well, I won," he said, deflecting and changing the subject. "What do I get?"

"You get to spot me on the bench press later," Jungkook said blithely, rolling his shoulders.

"That's not a reward!"

"It is for me. Maybe I'll let you buy me lunch afterwards. What are we doing next?"

"We?!" Seokjin sputtered for a moment. When Jungkook didn't react, he threw his hands in the air. "Fine, whatever, I'm doing two more sets of this and then walking lunges. And I'm not buying you lunch."

He bought him lunch.

"Hyung, we wanted to ask you something."

Yoongi glanced up from his iced Americano and raised an eyebrow.

Across, Taehyung and Jimin were holding hands on the tabletop and looking anticipatory and eager. Yoongi felt something in his chest soften a little. How long had he known these two? Their wedding was going to be so beautiful.

Taehyung took a breath. "We wanted to know--"

"Will you be Taetae's best man?" Jimin finished breathlessly, leaning forward.

Yoongi leaned back, grinning. "Yes," he said, no hesitation. "Is what why you invited me here? And bought me this coffee?" He took a long drink as if to make his point.

Jimin and Taehyung began bickering and celebrating -- sometimes in the same breath -- and Yoongi watched them, feeling affection well up in him. He'd never been jealous of their relationship, never coveted one or the other of his favorite dongsaengs.

Still, watching them exist so naturally in each other's space, watched them fit against each other like molded halves, he couldn't help but feel wistful. It would be nice, he thought, to be loved like that.

The rest of their visit had been Tae and Jiminie talking through their wedding plans, complaining about all the decisions, and helping Yoongi understand what being "best man" would really mean.

When they'd parted, as the cafe was closing down, Taehyung hugged him suddenly.

"Thank you," he said. "I wouldn't have wanted anyone else to be my best man."

Yoongi blinked back an unexpected prickle of tears. "Yah," he complained, hugging Taehyung closer. "That's not playing fair."

Taehyung pulled away first. "I still meant it."

"This cool guy," Yoongi murmured, clapping Taehyung's shoulder. "You should stop by Jin & Tonic sometime. Bartender-hyung misses you."

Taehyung smiled his boxy grin. "Has he asked out that Tracksuit guy yet?"

"No." Yoongi sighed. "I am almost losing hope."

"No!" Jimin shouted from a meter away. "Love is love! Love conquers all! Love wins!"

"I think he's drunk on sugar," Taehyung stage-whispered. "I should take him home."

"Be safe," Yoongi called, waving as they made their way to where Taehyung had parked. When they'd turned the corner, he stretched his arms over his head, enjoying the way his shoulders popped.

The stars were faint but twinkling, and the electric wires hummed softly in the quiet.

"Let's go to the studio," he murmured to himself, and headed down the hill.

"You don't have to help, Namjoon-ah," Seokjin said, gracefully flipping a chair over and setting it on the table. "You are technically a customer."

Namjoon shrugged, loosely, trying not to blush. He liked how Seokjin said his name. "It's just me. And I'm the reason it got this late."

It was late -- very late, past closing time, past the kitchen closing, past the time Seokjin usually left. So late that it now counted as early. They'd gotten caught up in discussing a drama it turned out they were both too invested in, and then suddenly, the hour had become obvious.

"I should have kept an eye on the clock." Seokjin sighed. "You don't work nights, I have no excuse."

"I mean, I kind of set my own schedule," Namjoon replied, lifting a chair with a soft grunt. "It's not a big deal."

"Would you just let me apologize and feel guilty," Seokjin joked. Namjoon could see the flash of his smile -- the real one, the one that made his eyes crinkle in the corners.

They were only a couple of chairs away from each other, now.

"Never," Namjoon replied, but it came out too sincere. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and moved to raise the next chair. Before he could grab it, however, he felt himself being pushed -- Seokjin crowding in his space until he was pressed against the table with Seokjin bent over him, one leg between his.

"Tell me no," Seokjin whispered, his hands shaking a little.

There was no universe where Namjoon said no, of that he was certain. "I say yes," he breathed.

Seokjin's mouth was warm and soft and hesitant. Namjoon parted his lips without reservation, widened his stance so that his hyung fit more snugly against him. His hands fluttered, uncertain of what to do, until Seokjin pinned his wrists on the tabletop and Namjoon groaned into his mouth, back arched. His world unraveled until all that was left was want.

He couldn't have said how long they kissed, how long he (finally!) had Seokjin in his arms without the bar between them. However long it was, it wasn't long enough.

A car drove by, the headlights blinding even though the shades were down. The sound and the lights broke whatever spell had settled over them. Seokjin relinquished his hands, pulled his body away in one step.

Namjoon straightened, trying not to shiver. "Hyung."

"I shouldn't have done that," Seokjin said. He was shaking, just the slightest tremor. "I'm sorry," he added, looking at Namjoon.

"I'm not," Namjoon said, throwing caution to the wind. It was going to be awkward either way, so he may as well go all-in. "Seokjin-hyung, come home with me. Or take me home with you. Whatever you want."

Seokjin closed his eyes, clearly torn.

Namjoon stepped closer and brushed aside a stray lock of hair on Seokjin's forehead, traced his hyung's jawline with a delicate touch. The same hand handled artwork that cost more than his parents' house. In some ways, he thought with his heart beating wildly in his throat, with his palm brushing across Seokjin's cheek and with his thumb tracing Seokjin's bottom lip, that comparison is too apt.

He felt Seokjin lean into his palm, just briefly, before reaching up to pull Namjoon's hand away. "I can't. I'm sorry," he repeated. "You should let yourself out, Namjoon-ah," he said softly, stepping back. Once again, the bar was between them, even as it stood several meters away. "Get home safely," he added, and then disappeared into the kitchen.

Namjoon lingered for a few heartbeats, then sighed gustily and let himself out, pulling the door firmly shut behind him. "Shit," he muttered, stuffing his hands in the kangaroo pocket of his tracksuit.

The first rays of dawn appeared over the horizon.

"I fucked up," Seokjin said without preamble.

He and Yoongi were meeting at a cafe that Yoongi liked, near his studio. Seokjin had closed down the bar for a day, deciding he needed an emotional bender more than he needed to take home one night of pay. He'd given the staff a paid night off and told them that the day after would be normal.

Which was how he sat here, in this chair, during what would have normally been setup hours, wearing his round glasses and his favorite baggy sweatshirt and his second-favorite jeans.

"Explain," Yoongi prompted, sipping delicately at his drink.

"I kissed him," Seokjin said, waiting until Yoongi had swallowed and set the drink down.

Yoongi's eyebrows rose. "That sounds like the opposite of a fuckup. I congratulate you on gaining the courage. When should I expect the wedding invite? I'm already booked for Taehyung and Jiminie's upcoming wedding though--"

Seokjin lightly kicked him under the table. "We're not dating."

Yoongi's expression fell. "Hyung, what did you do."

"I kissed him," Seokjin said, voice growing quieter and quieter. "After hours. He was helping me clean up. I just…" He shrugged, knowing he looked helpless. That was how he'd felt at that moment: Namjoon had said never, and Seokjin was only human.

"And then you ran away," Yoongi finished, taking another long drink.

Seokjin swore Yoongi was looking at him judgmentally. "I don't date customers," he said, not as emphatic as he wanted to be. The truth was, what he wanted from Namjoon and what constituted dating were vastly different things. Dating was this now only, and Seokjin wanted this now and every now thereafter.

Yoongi hummed and set down his -- latte? What was that? A flat white? -- his drink and looked at Seokjin with a hard stare. "Hyung," he said after a moment. "Have you considered that your rule, while well-intentioned and sensible, is now just a way for you to avoid being vulnerable?"

"I'm plenty vulnerable, just ask that Jungkook kid," Seokjin insisted. "He wrestled me at the gym. The gym! A sacred place--"

Yoongi held up a hand. "Come on."

Seokjin let out a long breath, felt himself physically deflate.

"You spend almost every single one of your waking hours at the bar. If you aren't working it, you're meeting with suppliers or brewery reps or interviewing or rearranging inventory or doing the books. Today is the first day off you've had in, what, four years?"

"I'm dedicated," Seokjin protested.

"You are," Yoongi acknowledged. "But you've also declared anyone associated with the bar as off limits. You've built yourself an excuse to avoid ever putting yourself in a situation where you're vulnerable. And it wasn't an issue, until it was. Your Tracksuit walked in and, well." Yoongi waved a hand vaguely.

"And, well," Seokjin echoed. "Yoongichi, what do I do?"

Yoongi's expression softened. "That's up to you, hyung. I can't make that decision for you."

Seokjin pouted. "Can't you, though?"

Yoongi rolled his eyes. "Normally, I might," he drawled. "But being Taetae's best man means I've got to be alert when they try to rope me into some kind of shenanigan. Can't solve your problems and avoid being entrapped." He glanced around. "Actually, they asked me to be the best man at this same table, last week." Yoongi made a humming sound and sipped his drink again.

"Jiminie asked me to emcee their wedding," Seokjin said. "I said yes, of course. I thought they'd ask me to work the bar with the caterer."

"They wouldn't do that to you," Yoongi retorted mildly, setting his mug down.

Seokjin's iced americano sweated on the table in front of him, untouched. "I'd have done it if they'd asked," he admitted, finally picking up his drink.

Yoongi sighed. "If Tracksuit properly asks you out, will you say yes?"

Seokjin swallowed. "He asked to come home with me, last night."

"And you said no."

"Well, I didn't say yes."

Yoongi looked like he pitied Seokjin. "You're such a mess," he said, shaking his head. "I'd never go and fall for someone I couldn't just ask out right then and there."

Seokjin rolled his eyes eloquently. "Well we can't all be the Talented and Perfect Min Yoongi."

"You forgot the Genius part," he pointed out, laughing at Seokjin's affronted expression.

Namjoon slid into the seat across from Taehyung, carefully holding his ice cream cone. "I don't usually get asked by clients to meet them for ice cream."

"Really?" Taehyung looked genuinely surprised. "I don't see why not, ice cream is delicious."

Namjoon grinned. "As long as it's not mint chocolate, I'm with you."

Taehyung hummed, noncommittal. His ice cream was purple, and he was eating it delicately with a tiny spoon.

"How is Jiminie?"

"Oh, he's fine. The kids in this cycle are great. He says one really has potential to be a great dancer." Taehyung raised his eyes to meet Namjoon's. "Though I'm sure you're more curious about why I called you out here to meet me."

The thing about artists was having to roll with their need for dramatics; Namjoon had learned this a long time ago. "Sure," he agreed easily. "But I figured you'd get to it."

His companion beamed then, his boxy smile with all the teeth. "Ah, hyung, you're so great."

Namjoon did love cute things, alas, his one weakness, and Taehyung's unusual smile was almost as cute as his fiancé. Almost. "Taehyung-ah, it's nothing," he demurred, licking delicately at his cone. He'd opted for pistachio, glaring at the mint chocolate tub as he'd walked past it.

"I have good news and bad news," Taehyung said somberly, his face falling to a serious, neutral expression. "I've been offered a photoshoot for Vogue. They want me to do one of the September spreads."

"That's amazing," Namjoon breathed. "Congratulations."

"Thank you." Taehyung's mouth quirked up into a shy smile. "I'm really excited."

Namjoon got the impression this was decidedly an understatement. He made a mental note to text Jimin later.

"But," Taehyung continued, the smile fading. "It means we need to delay my show. Is that going to cause you problems?"

Namjoon paused. "Pushed back how far?"

"Three months, until after my wedding."

Namjoon clenched his jaw, thinking. "It shouldn't be a problem," he said slowly. "But let me talk to the other artists and see if they can be flexible, too."

Taehyung looked so relieved that his eyes shone with unshed tears. "Hyung, thank you."

Namjoon held up a hand. "Don't thank me yet. Moving exhibitions isn't easy, and we may not be able to."

"Still," Taehyung said, voice so sincere it was almost theatrical. "You're going to try, and that means a lot."

"Ah, well," Namjoon said, now feeling shy himself. "You were one of my first artists. You believed in RKivist before it was anything more than a sign and me in mismatched blacks."

"And look how far you've come," Taehyung said, a wry note in his voice. "Now you wear matching tracksuits."

"This one is actually Hoseokie's," Namjoon said mildly, tugging at the orange elastic cuffs. "I'm debating getting my own."

"It's nice," Taehyung said. "Orange isn't the color I like best on you, though." At Namjoon's raised eyebrow, Taehyung laughed. "I'll tell you when I see it," he added, leaning back in his chair and taking a large bite of his scoop.

Later, as Namjoon wandered back to the gallery, he mentally cycled through the upcoming artist exhibitions, the inventory, and who owed him a favor. He was so lost in thought that he ran bodily into a solid form.

"Hyung!" It was Jungkook, dressed in gym clothes and looking sweaty. "You should be more careful," he insisted, holding out a hand to help Namjoon stand.

Namjoon took it. "Ah, sorry, Guk-ah. Kim Taehyung told me he needs us to reschedule his exhibit to three months later."

Jungkook immediately understood, whistling softly. "I'll run home and shower and meet you at the gallery in--" He looked at his phone. "Maybe an hour?"

Namjoon nodded. "All hands on deck," he said, resignation in his voice. "It's going to be a rough few weeks."

Hoseok had a terrible weakness for wedding dance choreography. "It's just so touching," he had tried explaining to Namjoon. "You have to make a story of their relationship in the dance. You have to speak to their journey, and translate that into movement."

Namjoon nodded. "Is that why they have that big questionnaire you do?"

"Yeah." Hoseok gestured with his hands. "Everyone's story is different. The ones I take on, their moment should be specific to them, you know?"

"Ah, Hobah," Namjoon said, sipping his iced coffee and looking fondly at Hoseok. "You're so soft-hearted."

Hoseok knew when he was being teased. "I'm never taking you to the aquarium again," he replied.

"Wait, no--"

"I'm kidding," Hoseok reassured him, pulling down his facemask to smile widely at Namjoon.

His companion visibly relaxed. "So, what's got you thinking about love?" Namjoon's countenance morphed into a sweetly childlike surprise. The fact that he was wearing a bright yellow tracksuit only seemed to underline this youthfulness. "Oh! Did you meet someone?"

He laughed and waved a hand. "No, please, when would I have had the time? No, no, I got a new request today and I think I'll accept? Kim-Park couple, same-age friends who fell in love."

"That could have been us, but you were playing," Namjoon joked, hiding his smile (poorly) behind his drink.

But later, Hoseok was at his studio office and looking at the survey the Park-Kim pair had sent in, both their handwriting on the page and even, in some places, bickering in the commentary as they explained why they were having a western-style reception and how their relationship had evolved. It was endearing, and Hoseok could see in his mind's eye a step sequence mimicking this. That was usually his sign: if he could see their responses in dance, he accepted the client.

Pulling up the messenger app on his phone, he sent the contact I.D. on the questionnaire a text: I'm taking you on as clients. Please understand, I have a few rules: I run a closed rehearsal, so only the couple is to attend. I need both of you to attend twice a week, and we'll do a one-on-one session once a week. It will be an hour each time, and each lesson is the premium price on the website, per person. Is that acceptable to you?

The reply was near-immediate. Yes!

Hoseok smiled. The other great thing about wedding dances was that the clients were usually eager.

Special: Thirst Love, Seokjin wrote on the specials board behind the bar, using his best fancy handwriting.

"You know, Jiminie would do that if you wanted," Yoongi said, sitting in his usual spot at the far end of the bar, by the bridge. Normally, Seokjin didn't let customers sit there, but for Yoongi he made an exception.

"I know, but I like it. Plus, sometimes I change the pun at the last minute."

Yoongi nodded at the sign. "Is it named after our demo?"

"Yeah," Seokjin confirmed, listing the ingredients below the drink name. "Been feeling nostalgic lately."

"Nostalgic, or have you been missing a certain Tracksuit?"

He really did hate it when Yoongi was right. "No," he lied, continuing to write the drink ingredients. "I've just been thinking about the past, that's all." The past, when Namjoon would come by a few times a week. He hadn't been there more than once in the last three weeks, and even then he'd been with Hoseok and looked worn out. So sue him, Seokjin was worried, and he missed his favorite -- he paused in his writing for a beat -- his favorite Namjoon.

"Uh-huh," Yoongi replied, skepticism obvious. "By the way, hyung? Pretty sure cute dimpled smiles aren't part of the drink recipe."

Seokjin snapped his attention to the board. He had written no such thing.

"Gotcha," Yoongi said, grinning.

"No free drinks for you," Seokjin complained, continuing to write out the food and daily specials.

"That's fine." Yoongi sighed and looked at his phone. "I have to go soon, anyway. Jiminie asked me for a favor, for the wedding. Something about dance lessons."

"My Yoongichi? Dancing?" Seokjin paused and turned fully to Yoongi, grinning. "Finally, all that Just Dance is coming in handy."

"I score better than you in one game, and this is what I have to live with," Yoongi complained, no heat in his voice. "I doubt the choreo will be anything like that." He sighed and stood. "Guess we'll find out. The studio is near here, but I should go."

Seokjin waved at him. "See you later."

The first day of the Kim-Park rehearsals was upon them.

Hoseok had gone over his notes and plans twice. He'd even brought in Chae Hyungwon to help him demonstrate the choreo, once he'd learned that the couple were both men. (Hoseok was not often called upon to reaffirm his progressive beliefs, but he was proud of himself that, when he learned both participants were grooms, his first thought was that he needed to change his assistant for the first lesson.)

They were discussing a turn in the choreo and whether it would be too complicated for beginners, when the door chimed that it was opening. In walked two figures: one was a little more petite, with round cheeks and an eager gleam in his eyes. The other was dark-haired and fair-skinned, a slight pout to his features.

"Hi!" said the smaller one, practically bouncing up to Hoseok and leaving his partner behind. "I'm Park Jimin, I was the one messaging with you. I'm so excited to work with you!" He seemed to suddenly remember himself, took a step back, and bowed politely. "Please take care of us."

The other figure bowed politely as well, watching Hoseok with keen eyes. Hoseok noticed he had multiple piercings in his ears.

Park Jimin appeared to be vibrating in place. "I'm so happy you chose us," he said, clearly unable to hold in his exuberance any further. "I've loved your work for years. I think I watched the choreography you put together for the Choi-Hong wedding at least a hundred and fifty times-- I saw it on Naver -- and I've just been obsessed ever since." He was flushed and breathless.

The other seemed gently amused by Park Jimin's antics. "I look forward to working with you," he said at last, mouth tilting up.

(And Hoseok, right then, knew he was in trouble. That deep voice with the faint accent and the amused gleam in his eyes? Was going to cause Hoseok problems. But we're getting ahead of ourselves.)

Hoseok, taken aback, bowed in response. "I look forward to having you here for the next six weeks."

Jimin turned to Kim Deep-voice. "I can't believe the wedding is in six weeks," he whisper-shouted.

Hyungwon hid a smile behind his hand.

"Me either," the other replied. "Means we should get started?"

Hoseok jumped on the opportunity. "You're right, Kim…?"

He seemed to blink, uncertain. "Kim," he said slowly, looking at Jimin. "Yoongi," he said at last. "Kim Yoongi," he repeated, looking a little perturbed.

That wasn't any of Hoseok's business. "Okay! We don't really stand on ceremony here, so is it alright if I call you Jimin-ssi and Yoongi-ssi?"

"Yes, ssem!" Jimin replied, standing up straight and saluting. Yoongi looked exasperated and fond.

"I brought Hyungwon here to assist me for today." Hoseok gestured at Hyungwon, who bowed slightly in acknowledgement. The others returned the gesture. "He and I will show you the routine I prepared. You can make suggestions for changes, and I'll work on adapting to your requests and skill level."

"Oh, that won't be a problem," Jimin said immediately. "I'm a modern dancer, and my fiance--"

"I used to be a b-boy," Yoongi said flatly, cutting Jimin off. "I can keep up."

"--can dance, too," Jimin finished, rolling his eyes.

"Great," Hoseok said, dodging that landmine, too. "Then let's get started."

However, after they'd had a break, Hoseok ran into another snag.

"So," Hoseok said, clapping his hands. It was just the three of them, and he'd had Yoongi and Jimin practice a basic box step in place, as a warmup. "Which of you is the lead and which is the follow?" Excellent use of inclusive language, Hoseok affirmed to himself.

Jimin and Yoongi looked at each other for….several beats. Too many beats.

"I think Jiminie should follow," Yoongi said at last, his words slow and unusually uncertain. "The follow tends to be the more flashy role, and our Jimin is good at playing to a crowd."

"But Tae--, uh, PD-nim should also get to show off a little," Jimin protested. "It's our wedding, it's not fair if I'm the one with all the attention."

"Ssem," Yoongi said, turning his gaze onto Hoseok. (Damn, did the room get warmer or was that just him? And by him, Hoseok meant Yoongi.) "Can you alter the choreo so that both of us lead and follow at different times?"

Ah, man, Hoseok did love a challenge. "Sure," he said agreeably. Internally, of course, he was screaming a little. Just a little. "I'll see what I can do."

Yoongi pushed aside the weather door and stepped inside Jin & Tonic. He sat down in his spot, and buried his face in his hands, letting out a long groan while Seokjin wiped down tables and stacked chairs.

"Bad rehearsal?" Seokjin asked mildly. Yoongi could tell he was trying not to smother him by hovering.

"Worse." Yoongi's voice was muffled, face still in his hands. He was glad his hyung knew he needed some space.

"Worse!" Seokjin clucked his tongue. "I'm sure it was fine," he said soothingly. "If you were uncoordinated or stiff, that'll go away with practice, right."

"No, it's not that." Yoongi raised his head, feeling forlorn. "The dance teacher. Hyung. He's so -- he's so--" He made an inarticulate noise that he was sure Seokjin understood too well.

"So ask him out."

"I can't," Yoongi said, making a despairing gesture. "I'm doing a whole thing where I pretend to be Jimin's fiancé, so I can't ask him out. Not until the wedding, at least. Maybe not ever." He pouted. "I'm done for," he declared, just a shade short of dramatic. Man, it felt good to be a little dramatic. No wonder this bartender hyung was always causing a scene.

That same hyung -- Seokjin -- laughed for a solid five minutes, until Yoongi couldn't take it anymore and made baleful noises at him.

"It'll be okay, you know," Seokjin said eventually, after he'd calmed down and poured Yoongi a few fingers of the nice whiskey he kept for his favorite customer.

"How can you know?" Yoongi swirled his glass and gazed down into it, hoping to find answers. He knew better than most that answers weren't in there, though.

"I don't," Seokjin replied gently, no artifice and no lies. They'd long ago agreed to always be honest with each other.

"I figured," Yoongi murmured, taking another long sip.

However, Seokjin wasn't done. "But I've tended bar long enough to know that even the most outlandish situations have a way of working themselves out." In a rare display of affection, Seokjin reached across the bar and clasped Yoongi's shoulder. "You'll figure it out."

With the whiskey burning in his stomach, Yoongi believed him.

"Namjoon-ah, I'm dying," Hoseok declared, gazing morosely at his beer.

"At the usual rate, or faster this time?" Namjoon replied mildly, taking a long drink of his Hite and trying to eye the bartender subtly. (He knew he was very obvious.)

Hoseok would normally have shoved at Namjoon's shoulder, but he knew he looked so worn out that Hoseok probably worried one shove might actually damage him.

"Slightly faster than usual," Hoseok said, eyeing his pint glass with resignation.

Suddenly, a straw was dropped into it -- the kind Hobi preferred, with two loop-de-loops.

"I got the good kind of straws in," Seokjin said, tossing the towel over one shoulder and leaning on the bar. He shot Hoseok a million-won smile, Namjoon's heart clenching. "Why are you dying, jwaey-heob?"

"Every day I regret telling you my old stage name," he replied cheerily. "Thank you for the straw, hyung."

Seokjin waved a hand. "Who has upset my favorite customer?"

Namjoon looked put out and picked at the cuffs of his tracksuit. He felt tired, and wondered if coming in was yet another mistake he seemed determined to make in his life.

"No one!" Hoseok said. "I just took on a new choreography client and one half of the couple is really hot. Like," he added, gesturing with a hand. "Just. So hot. He was wearing a flannel over a white tee and skinny jeans and I was feeling things."

"That's enough," Seokjin said, straightening up. "This is a family establishment."

"This is a bar…?" Namjoon looked around, bewildered by what families frequented this place.

"Yah, how small-minded, families don't have to have children--"

Namjoon felt pained and let his expression reflect it. "Hyung--"

"Oh look, a customer needs me, be right back." And Seokjin strode to the far end of the bar, where a finance-type and his companion were seated and trying to signal for his attention.

Namjoon sighed.

Hoseok patted his shoulder. "You got it bad, dude."

"Take it from me, Hobah," Namjoon said, mouth twisting downward. The beer began to taste like cardboard. "Don't get hung up on someone you can't have."

Seokjin's grim I don't date customers statement hung in the air between them, a downer of epic proportions.

"I won't," Hoseok promised, voice lowered and serious. "It's for their wedding, I'm dumb but I'm not stupid."

"You're not dumb," Namjoon chided gently, his frown loosening into a smile. Hoseok really had incredible timing. Must be a dancer thing.

"What, so I'm stupid? Namjoon-ah--!"

"Ooh, drama," Seokjin said, and slid back into place. "Give us the goods, gents. Tell your favorite flower everything," he added, cupping his hands under his chin in flower pose.

"Cute," Namjoon mumbled into his drink, trying to hide his blush. He felt the heat on his neck, and resisted the urge to tug at his collar.

After catching Seokjin up, Hoseok flopped over dramatically. "I swear, my heart skipped a beat, like a cliche," Hoseok complained, straightening.

Beside him, Namjoon nodded in understanding. His tracksuit today was an infinite black that set off his blonde hair. "Terrible. I can't believe Jung Hoseok actually has a crush on a client."

"It's just a crush," Hoseok affirmed. "Harmless."

But Seokjin was giving him a searching look. "Make sure it stays that way," he said, gaze steady and voice oddly serious.

Hoseok looked a bit bewildered. "Hyung?"

Seokjin straightened and the expression melted away into his usual cheery demeanor. "Trust me!" And then he headed to a pair who'd waved him down.

"That was weird, right," Hoseok said, watching Seokjin's shoulders from behind.

"Extremely," Namjoon agreed. "But you know how hyung is, he won't share unless he wants to." Not his thoughts, not his bed, not his heart. Namjoon either needed more alcohol or less.

"Sounds like a Namjoon I know," Hoseok teased, pretending to reach for one of Namjoon's jwipo.

"Namjoon doesn't share food," Namjoon retorted primly, pushing his plate away from Hoseok's reaching hands and trying to bite back a smile at Hoseok's expression.

Wednesday and his first one-on-one lesson with Yoongi arrived sooner than Hoseok was ready for.

"It'll be fine," Hyungwon reassured him, casually eating honey butter chips while pretending to work the reception desk. "You're in a room that's 90% mirrors or windows. You're a professional. Keep it together, sunbae."

Trust Hyungwon to remind Hoseok of what was important. "You're right," Hoseok acknowledged. "I'm a professional. It's just a crush. It'll be fine."

And it was fine; Yoongi arrived without fanfare, and the dance lesson progressed without issues. Yoongi felt a bit awkward doing flairs and poses, but Hoseok gently teased and encouraged him until the positions felt natural, until the steps seemed to happen almost without thought. It helped when he remembered that Yoongi was younger than him.

When they reached the end of the choreo for that day, Hoseok dropped Yoongi's hands and took a small step away. "That was great," he said. "You've really got this part down. Tomorrow, you and Jimin-ssi will start on the next section."

"Hopefully I don't forget everything before then," Yoongi replied, voice deadpan but his eyes sparkling. He had a facemask under his chin, which made him look pouty and round-faced.

(Hoseok was tempted to coo.)

"I'm sure you'll be fine," Hoseok said, using his encouraging trainees voice. "You've got great fundamentals, probably from being a b-boy."

Yoongi ducked his head. "Ah, thank you."

"Jimin is a lucky guy," Hoseok added, trying to remind himself of their situation.

"Right," Yoongi replied slowly, something in his expression closing. "Yes, he is."

Later, after Yoongi had waved goodbye, Hyungwon (with a new bag of chips) raised an eyebrow. "See? You did it."

"Can I manage this four more times," Hoseok muttered, running a hand over his face. "I can't wait for their wedding, being around someone that attractive is bad for my health."

"You wound me," Hyungwon said, tone clear he was joking.

"When's my next class?"

"In an hour and a half, it's the intro to popping and locking class for the pre-teens."

"I'm going to work on the team choreo in studio 2," he said. "Interrupt me if you need anything."

"You got it, bossman," Hyungwon said, waving lazily.

His individual lessons with Jimin were high-energy and high-efficiency. Jimin picked up the choreography quickly, had no self-consciousness about flairs, and even suggested small tweaks here and there, which Hoseok liked.

"It's rare I get to work with another dancer," Hoseok admitted, finishing their session fifteen minutes early. "I mean, I collab with people here all the time, but--"

"Not modern dancers?" Jimin's smile was genuine, his body language loose and easy. "I get it. It's hard to work outside of your usual circles without an introduction."

"Exactly," Hoseok said.

"Maybe after all this," Jimin said slowly, watching Hoseok's expression carefully. "I could introduce you to some of my friends? Rocky, Taemin, and Jongin all have classical dance backgrounds but do stage and street styles, you might find some inspiration from their stuff."

"That would be incredible," Hoseok replied. Later, after Jimin had left, Hoseok sat with his feelings for a long moment and found he'd meant what he said.

Two weeks out from the wedding, and now lessons were just about getting timing, footwork, flairs, and finishing touches all correct.

"We'll do one last lesson a couple days before your rehearsal dinner, but aside from that, this week and next are our last weeks together," Hoseok explained.

Jimin, looking a bit tired, appeared as though he'd burst into tears in a moment's notice. "I'll miss you, too, ssem," he said, voice wobbling.

"The weeks really flew by," Yoongi said, tugging his sleeves over his hands.

Hoseok was endeared by both of them, if he were being honest, and that was a real problem. "Planning a wedding will do that," he said gently, as much to remind himself as it was to reassure them.

"You said it," Jimin agreed. Yoongi looked uncomfortable.

Probably about on par with how Hoseok felt.

"Okay," Hoseok said, relinquishing Yoongi and stepping away. "That was great, and you managed the combination three times in a row without any mistakes."

Wearing a facemask, Yoongi was enigmatic and hard to read. The eyes might have been the windows to the soul, but Hoseok felt more like a Mac running Windows. It was late -- Yoongi had asked if they could meet later than usual, as he had some other obligation. Hoseok had agreed, and had stayed after Hyungwon had left to let Yoongi in.

Now, an hour later, the lesson was over. Hoseok was exhausted from self-monitoring, keeping a vigilant eye on himself to not be inappropriate with the client -- but it also left him oddly wired, a pent-up kind of frustration making him tense.

"I have a great teacher," Yoongi said after a long moment, eyes crinkling. "Thank you for keeping the studio open, I know it's late."

Hoseok waved a hand. "No worries. You gave me some warning, and you've come in early a few times. Consider it a favor returned."

"Should I just let myself out?" Yoongi gestured in the direction of the front door.

"Yeah, it should lock behind you," Hoseok said. "Thank you for your hard work today," he added, sketching a bow.

"Thank you, ssem," Yoongi replied. With a wave, he was out the door.

When the latch caught, Hoseok let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He stretched, trying to loosen up the tight muscles in his back and shoulders, and turned on his freestyling playlist. After a quick warm-up, he let himself get lost in the bassline, moving his body to the music and watching himself in the mirror to track his isolations and timing.

He went through song after song, moving from house to pop-n-lock to krumping. When the fourth song ended, and he unfroze from his ending pose, he heard a single person's applause. Whipping around, he found Yoongi in the doorway, facemask off and expression impressed. "Whoa, Hoseok-ssi, you're amazing."

He felt, very suddenly, shy. "Thank you," he replied, trying to look a little less like he'd just danced his heart out for almost thirty solid minutes. "You're still here?"

"I got a call from a producer friend, so I went to the other side to take it. Figured it'd be better to talk to him inside a quiet building than on the street." He smiled, looking shy. "But when I was done, I realized I left my water bottle in here, so I thought I'd grab it before you left. I didn't want to interrupt, so I was watching." He shifted, expression hard to read. "I hope it's okay."

"It's fine," Hoseok said quickly. "I don't mind. I think I'm actually done for the night."

"Hmm." There was that considering hum from Yoongi, the one Hoseok heard when he showed the other a particularly difficult combination, or when Yoongi was thinking something. "My friend's bar is not too far from here. Would you like to get a drink with me?"

And even though he knew it was a mistake, Hoseok replied: "Yeah, that'd be great."

The walk to the bar was quiet, Hoseok opting to let the silence exist between them.

"You can speak comfortably with me, you know," Yoongi said suddenly, looking intently at the pavement.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I don't mind. The studio's site says you're born in '94."

"That's true." That strange something's-not-quite-right feeling prickled in the back of his mind. He shook it off and glanced at Yoongi. "You can call me hyung if you want. You're 95 line, right?"

"Hyung," Yoongi said, clearly amused. "Maybe I'll give you a nickname."

"You'll have to compete with my hyung, he likes bestowing special names," Hoseok said with a laugh.

"Weird, I have a hyung like that, too," Yoongi said, still beaming. The sight left Hoseok a little breathless.

However: the walk was familiar -- and, indeed, when Yoongi turned into the weather door that led to Jin & Tonic (he insisted it wasn't a typo, much to Namjoon's constant ire) Hoseok nearly laughed aloud.

"I've heard good things," he replied, trying to school his features, when Yoongi had looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

They walked to a pair of open seats at the bar. Seokjin turned when he saw the movement. "Jway-heob! And you bought -- Yoongichi?"

"You have a Seokjin nickname, too?" Hoseok said quietly. When Seokjin leaned against the bar top in front of them, Hoseok smiled. "Hyung, you know the Park-Kim wedding I choreographed? This is the Kim half, Kim Yoongi. But I guess you already know each other…?"

"Kim Yoongi?" Seokjin's brow furrowed. "But, Yoongi, I thought--" There was a sudden movement, and Seokjin's mouth closed with a snap. "Maybe I was mistaken," he finished smoothly. "The usual for you, Hobah?"

Seokjin had lingered for a while, making jokes and offering an unserious commentary on the various suppliers he'd had to meet with during the cursed daylight hours -- Yoongi's words, not Seokjin's -- until he'd been pulled away by other customers.

Hoseok was half a beer in, which was dangerous territory for him. "Yoongi!" he said, after a long and uncertain silence, swaying ever so slightly. He told himself to keep it together. "What kind of music do you produce?"

Yoongi, whose posture had turned a bit inward after Seokjin and his magnetic pull had withdrawn, straightened. "Just this and that," he said, his expression losing some of its distance. "You were listening to house and hip hop while you danced, right?"

He nodded, a little too rapidly. (He really needed to either drink more to up his tolerance, or drink less and accept his limits.) "I'm a street dancer," he explained. "So, like, popping, waacking, bounce." He laughed. "I learned how to c-walk and it was over."

"Can you breakdance, too?"

"Nahhh," Hoseok replied, waving a hand. "That shit's somethin' else," he said, hearing his Jeolla-do satoori come in front and center. "Whoops," he said, covering his mouth.

But Yoongi didn't seem surprised. "You speak Jeolla dialect, I knew it," he said. Something in his eyes sparkled. "I guess we can never be friends," he lamented, tone exaggerated. Hoseok heard his accent broaden, until he was speaking in the distinctly Daegu way.

But one did not become friends with Seokjin and fail to pick up some of his theatricality. Hoseok pressed a hand over his heart. "Alas," he said, absolutely deadpan. "Our friendship can never be."

Yoongi broke first, smiling so widely that it was like he was glowing. "Tell me," he said, leaning forward a little. "What do you miss? I can't find Andong jjimdak in Seoul to save my life, it always tastes too salty or oily or something."

"Ahhh," he said, propping his chin on a hand. "I miss hwangpo-muk in my bibimbap. Yeah, yeah, you can find it here, but it's just not the same somehow."

"We are talking about food?" Seokjin ambled up, looking bright-eyed. "Have you finally convinced Namjoonie that seafood is actually delicious?"

"Never," Hoseok replied easily. "That guy loves crabs as friends, not food."

"That's adorable," Yoongi said flatly.

"Not as cute as you, Yoongichi," Seokjin said, practically sparkling like a variety show idol.

"You're being summoned," Hoseok pointed out dryly, gesturing over Seokjin's shoulder. When he'd moved away -- leaving a glass of water for Hoseok only, tsk this hyung -- Hoseok tilted towards Yoongi. "Hey, you never told me what music you work on."

Yoongi looked thoughtful. Hoseok kind of loved the way the recessed lighting in the bar highlighted the line of Yoongi's jaw, made his eyes look dark and mysterious, made his bleached-blonde hair glow.

After a long moment, Yoongi finally spoke. "Lately, I've been producing R&B tracks," he said slowly, like he was cataloging his work in his head. "My own stuff is more hip hop and trap, I guess. I really like the Memphis style trap that's everywhere, and it looks like we're about to have a crunk revival." He hummed. "I'm a beatmaker," he said, toying with the beer glass. "I like taking a sound and finding the song that it leads to."

"That's poetic," Hoseok said. He shifted, and their knees touched under the bar.

"Maybe," Yoongi said. He looked a bit pink, but Hoseok couldn't be sure. "I'm not much for lyrics, if I'm being honest. I should find a lyricist but there hasn't been anyone I'd want to work with long-term in ages. There used to be a guy, in the underground scene, but he's been inactive for a while."

Something in Hoseok's mind clicked. "Wait, you don't mean Runch, do you? Uh, I think he went by RM for a while?"

Yoongi's expression was the definition of surprised; his eyebrows disappeared under his bangs, and his mouth was open in a little 'o' shape. "Actually, yes! I liked his flow, always wondered what happened to him."

"Oh, man," Hoseok said, knowing his smile was threatening to crack his face in two. "I have to introduce you to Namjoonie."

"Namjoon…" Yoongi looked thoughtful. "Wait, you mean Tracksuit? That guy Jin-hyung is always talking about?"

"Always talking about?" Hoseok felt his eyebrows rise.

"He's mentioned him," Yoongi amended, taking a long drink.

"We'll come back to that," Hoseok said. "Yeah, Namjoonie's usually in tracksuits when he comes here. He doesn't like to wear his work clothes home, he's always worried he'll mess up his shirts." Hoseok rolled his eyes eloquently. "If only he didn't forget his bag half the time. Honestly, that guy."

Yoongi smiled. "Your best friend?"

"Same age and like a brother to me," Hoseok said seriously. "We met a few years ago. He's a huge nerd, though he acts tough."

"Sounds like he's lucky to have you," Yoongi replied, something fond in his expression. Under the overhang, Hoseok felt their legs press together, felt something in his chest lurch.

Blindly, he reached for his glass. "I'll drink to that," he said hoarsely, and downed half the remaining contents in one gulp.

I'm in trouble, he thought, and felt the weight of Seokjin's watchful gaze on his shoulders.

Later, after Yoongi had looked at his phone, sworn under his breath, and declared he had to go; after the bar had emptied out a little; after Seokjin had come around to the main area and started stacking chairs -- after all that, at last he asked the question.

"It's Yoongi you've got that crush on, isn't it?"

Hoseok, who was midway through flipping a seat over, made an affirmative noise. He and Yoongi had kept chatting, complaining about kids these days and wishing for a more progressive Korea. They had a lot in common, and a lot opposite. At one point, Yoongi joked they were Hwaggae Market personified.

"I think it might be more than a crush," Hoseok said, studying his water glass. "You always talk about Namjoon to Yoongi, hyung?"

Seokjin flushed scarlet. "I--it--we--"

Hoseok waved a hand. "Your secret is safe with me," Hoseok said. "But I don't understand. You know Namjoon likes you. You clearly like him. What's holding you back?"

He hadn't really expected anything; Seokjin was notoriously private, liable to deflect and dodge anything he didn't want to answer. So it was a surprise when Hoseok saw something stern come over Seokjin's face, when everything about him went still.

"Why is anyone cowardly, Hoseok-ah? I don't want to get hurt."

Hoseok had no idea what to say to that. "I understand," he said at last. "I meant it, you know. I'll keep this between us. I promise."

Seokjin nodded once, and then ran his cloth across the bar surface, until the wood nearly sparkled.

"He likes bath bombs," Seokjin said, apropos of nothing.

"What?"

"Yoongichi. He licked one once, 'cause he thought it would taste like vitamins. It didn't."

Hoseok paused, and then started to laugh. And maybe, some of the laughter sounded a bit too sad, but Seokjin was kind enough not to say anything.

Normally, as a dancer, Hoseok could turn off the part of his brain that registered physical touch as intimate. Choreography was about expressing emotions, and the points of contact were more about conveying connection than anything inherently sensual between the performers.

Toss that in the trash: Hoseok was extremely aware of his hand in the gentle dip of Yoongi's waist, of the warmth of Yoongi's back as they swayed together. Then it was Yoongi's hand at Hoseok's waist, as he took on the role of the lead and Hoseok moved to follow. Yoongi was an excellent lead: telegraphing his moves very openly, with a gentle touch and a careful gesture. Hoseok wondered if Yoongi was like that when--

Unexpectedly, Yoongi pulled Hoseok closer, arm wrapping around Hoseok's waist. He could feel Yoongi's large palm on his back, and heat crawled up his spine, up his face. All of his usual mental distance crashed; here was a firm, surprisingly muscled frame holding him close.

Hoseok was only human.

He allowed Yoongi to turn him, performing the flair he'd drilled with Jimin the other day, and moved around Yoongi's back. He dragged a hand across Yoongi's shoulders, his touch a bit firmer than necessary, and watched Yoongi's eyes tracking him in the mirror.

The moment intensified, the music allowing no respite. Hoseok was counting time, the beat in the back of his mind like a heartbeat, even as Yoongi pressed a hand to Hoseok's chest, pushed at his shoulder until Hoseok did his turn -- and now Hoseok was again the lead, and Yoongi the follow.

Yoongi smoothly stepped across, dramatically posing his hands and tilting his head, before moving into position, hand on Hoseok's shoulder once more. They moved in step, a simple sequence that played into the give-and-take between Jimin and Yoongi that they'd displayed in their questionnaire, a physical representation of all the bickering comments he'd seen on their application form. Bickering that, Hoseok realized distantly, he hadn't seen once in person.

The thought slipped away as Yoongi and Hoseok turned, and then reset, Yoongi the lead again. There would be a lift here -- Yoongi lifting Jimin -- to create a very showy finish, but Hoseok had been having Yoongi dip him since he was larger than Jimin. Yoongi held onto Hoseok securely and moved him into a low dip, lower than they'd practiced. Yoongi was so close that Hoseok's awareness narrowed entirely to him: the slight pout of his mouth, the curve of his eyelid, the flushed tone of his countenance.

This was bad.

"You," Hoseok said after a long moment, the two of them posed in the silence, their breathing echoing off the wooden floors, the mirrors. "You can let me up, now."

He seemed to take a minute to come back to himself, and then he straightened, pulling Hoseok back to standing. "Ssem--"

"I think you've got the dance down," Hoseok said, taking a step back, keeping his voice cheerful. "You've really done a great job, Yoongi-ssi. I know this isn't your forte, but you worked hard, and it's paid off."

Yoongi was watching him with an unreadable expression.

Hoseok smiled. "Jimin is so lucky," he said, ignoring the ache in his heart. "You're going to impress all your guests." Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, but Hoseok barreled on. "Oh, wow, look at the time," he said, transparently reaching for an excuse. "It's gotten late. You should get going before the subway closes. I'll just go grab Zelo and we'll lock up." He waved and, without looking back, walked out of the studio, hand pressed to his sternum.

Ducking into the break room, he fell gracelessly into the seat and dropped his head into his hands.

This -- this was more than a crush. This was also a huge mistake. Hoseok rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. There were only two more lessons and then he could just… never see Yoongi or Jimin ever again. Maybe avoid Seokjin, too, since he knew Kim Yoongi. Guess he and Namjoon were going to find a new regular spot. Maybe that was for the best, Namjoon had been fruitlessly pining after Seokjin for so long--

"Sunbae, you're still here?"

Hoseok looked up to find the lanky form of Hyungwon standing in the doorway. He had his hands in his jacket pockets, and he wore a fitted ball cap, the flat brim giving him a hypebeast look. "Hyungwon-ah, you look cool." He grinned. "You admire sunbae that much? I'm touched."

But Hyungwon ignored the teasing. "Your private lesson student lingered in the waiting area for a bit."

"Kim Yoongi," Hoseok said, smile dropping and voice losing his cheery tone. "He's part of the couple we did the demo for a few weeks ago."

"I remember." Hyungwon watched him for a long moment. "Sunbae, how about I take over their lesson tomorrow? You're mostly working on finishes and flairs, right? And timing? I can handle that."

"I couldn't ask you--"

"I know," Hyungwon said, something firm in his voice. "That's why I'm offering. Take a night off. You still have your private lesson and the last pair session with them."

Hoseok felt his shoulders fall. "Thanks, Hyungwon-ah."

"Zelo and I can cover things here. We'll call Hyerin if anything comes up." Something in Hyungwon's face softened. "You need to take care of yourself, sunbaenim. You're our heart and soul, you know."

"Cheesy," Hoseok scolded, moving to stand. "Can you two lock up?"

Hyungwon saluted lazily. "We'll manage."

The walk back to his apartment was quiet. Hoseok slid his phone into his pocket and just ambled until he found himself at Namjoon's gallery. The street lamp was on, but the gallery was blindingly bright, the lights inside white and striking. He could see Namjoon chatting with a patron, his black collared shirt and slacks giving him a mature look.

Hoseok watched from the curb for a few moments, until the patron left, before crossing the street and pushing open the door.

"Hello, wel-- ah! Hoseokie-hyung!" Jungkook's smile morphed from polite to genuine, the little lines at the corners of his eyes showing and his nose crinkling slightly. He, too, was in a similar all-black look, though his slacks had a very subtle pinstripe pattern. "Did you come to see Rapmo-- uh, RM-hyung?"

"Yeah, but it's still good to see you." He held out his arms and Jungkook embraced him, the hug warm and enveloping. Uncharacteristically, Hoseok thought he might cry.

"What's this? Hobah, I thought you had a lesson tonight?" Namjoon sounded concerned.

"I did," Hoseok said, still hugging Jungkook, voice muffled. "I ended it early."

"What happened?" Jungkook asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.

"I think I'm falling for my dance client," Hoseok said, turning his head to look at Namjoon.

Jungkook hugged him a little tighter. "And?"

"And he's getting married in ten days," Namjoon said, sympathy in his expression. "Let's go to Jin & Tonic. Gukkie and I can close up pretty quick."

"Actually," Hoseok said, pulling away from Jungkook. "Can we go to a pojangmacha?"

"Jin-hyung will be mad if he knows we cheated on him," Jungkook said. "Let's do it."

Namjoon hid a smile.

The tent restaurant was in a pretty high-traffic area. The ahjumma running it was serving up pajeon and fishcakes on skewers, plus sausage-and-tteokbokki sticks.

"Cheers," Namjoon said, raising a soju glass. "To wanting people we can't have."

"Unrequited love," Jungkook added solemnly. "A bitch and a half."

"Let's get wrecked," Hoseok added, clinking his glass against theirs and tipping it back. The soju burned all the way down, and he felt the world's edges dull almost immediately. "Yah," he said, swaying slightly. "I'm so glad I have you two."

"Oh boy, Emotional Drunk Hoseokie-hyung has already arrived," Jungkook believed he muttered, mixing somaek and drinking it.

"Hobah, I'm glad to have you, too." Namjoon smiled. "You'll be okay. Take it from someone who's right where you are."

"Seokjin-hyung likes Namjoon-hyung, too," Jungkook said suddenly, cheeks rosy. Hoseok suddenly wondered if his somaek wasn't more so than maek. "He's just being a dummy. A big dummy. As big as his shoulders."

Namjoon gently moved the soju bottle away from Jungkook. "I know," he said placidly, a note of resignation in his voice. "But even I can't wait forever."

This was news to Hoseok. "What?! You've known he likes you back? For how long!"

Namjoon hummed, looking at his beer bottle with a distant expression. "A couple months now?" He glanced at Hoseok. "I stayed after hours and we kissed."

Hoseok felt his jaw drop. "Namjoon!"

Jungkook looked between them, then reached for a piece of pajeon with his chopsticks.

"I know," Namjoon replied, voice bordering on a whine. "But then he said I can't, I'm sorry, and we've just been stuck."

"That sucks," Hoseok said flatly, reaching for the soju again. "Yoongi and I were practicing the choreography for their wedding today, and I just...knew."

"It be like that sometimes," Namjoon said solemnly, holding out his glass for Hoseok to fill.

"It do be," Jungkook agreed, covering his mouth while he ate his third scallion pancake.

"We need more soju," Hoseok decided, and signalled for another bottle.

Hoseok was pretty sure he was still hungover four days later.

"You look terrible," Hyerin said.

"Hello, noona, it's lovely to see you too, how have you been, I'm doing great, thank you for asking." Hoseok finished the last of his iced Americano and went to the sink to dump out the ice.

"Seriously, Hobah, we've got hangover cure in the fridge. How hard did you party this weekend?"

"I didn't party," he insisted, tossing the cup and straw in recycling. "I went out on Wednesday night with Namjoonie and Jungkookie."

"And you've been a mess ever since?" She whistled. "Man, you really are a lightweight."

"Not all of us are tanks like you," he replied sweetly, using formal speech.

"Hoseok-ssi," Zelo interrupted. "Your clients are here. I put them in Studio 2."

Hoseok felt himself deflate. "I'm coming," he called back, then hesitated.

Hyerin laid a hand on his shoulder. "One day at a time," she said, serious and kind. "One hour after another."

He looked at her for a long moment, and then nodded. "Thanks, noona."

Her mouth quirked up at the corners. "What are noonas for? By the way, I need Jiwoo-unnie's help this weekend."

"I'll text her. Remind me after this lesson."

She saluted casually as Hoseok walked out of the breakroom and, with a bracing breath, into the studio.

Jimin and Yoongi were speaking quietly to each other, practicing the basic step that was their usual warm-up. Gathering his courage, Hoseok smiled. "Hello!"

The practice went well. Jimin was energetic and excited, practically radiating joy as they worked on final touches. Yoongi was more subdued, almost withdrawn, watching Hoseok with a dark, steady gaze, and then following instructions with a perfunctory efficiency that bordered on impersonal.

The lift at the end was especially tricky. "You should hold him closer," Hoseok said. "This is your husband, not the recycling."

Yoongi smiled faintly at that. "You're right. Jiminie, you're almost as cute as Holly."

"I'll take it," Jimin readily agreed. "We'll work on proximity, ssem! Hyu-- PD-nim, can you set me down now?"

Right as Jimin's feet touched the ground, a buzzing filled the room, almost as if on cue.

Yoongi pulled out his phone and looked startled. "I'm really sorry, I need to take this."

Hoseok made a go ahead gesture. "It's fine, we're done here anyway."

Yoongi nodded sharply, then answered the phone as he walked out of the studio. "Yes, this Suga," he answered, and then his voice faded as he moved further away.

Jimin looked intently at Hoseok. "Ssem," he said. "I'd like to invite you to our reception."

Panic seized Hoseok. "I'm not sure I should--"

"Please," Jimin said, and an invitation card materialized seemingly out of nowhere. "It would mean a lot to us if you could be there." Something shone in Jimin's eyes.

"Okay," Hoseok said at last. "May I bring a friend?"

"Of course!" Jimin smiled, his eyes narrowing to lines. "And no presents, please. Your presence is enough of a gift."

"That's a lovely turn of phrase."

"Isn't it?" Jimin's smile turned mysterious. "My fiance thought of it." He sketched a bow. "See you on Saturday, ssem!" And like a typhoon, he was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving only chaos in his wake.

Namjoon blew out a long breath and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, the bag on his hip bouncing a little. He'd left work late, having sent Jungkook home early, and the temperature had dropped unexpectedly. Namjoon didn't get cold easily, but a few too many days working a few too many hours were starting to affect him.

The artists he and Jungkook had reached out to were all able to move their exhibitions up -- unfortunately, this had also meant the RKvist backroom was now a massive shipping and receiving operation, as they geared up to accommodate the change in schedule. Between handing the back-end shipments and the front-of-house, Namjoon wondered if he wasn't burning the candle at both ends.

The past couple months had made him doubly grateful he'd hired Jungkook, not just for his ability to casually lift a truly staggering amount of weight without showing strain, but also for taking on more than what he'd been hired for and rising to the occasion. He really ought to give the kid a raise or a bonus, something.

He turned the corner and saw Jin & Tonic ahead, the lights above the sign and the lights from inside beckoning him to go inside, have a drink, say hello to the regulars and maybe flirt with his Bartender Hyung a little.

He couldn't; the longer he stayed away, the more he eroded his "customer" designation. He'd have a solution to this problem no matter how things shook out, at least.

Namjoon slowed his walk as he passed by the bar, safely on the other side of the street. There were twinkly lights in the windows now, though actual winter was still a ways off. The crowd inside didn't seem too densely packed, based on the shadows in the glass. When the door opened so someone could come outside to have a smoke, he could hear the warm hum of chatter from inside.

There was no sign of Seokjin, not that Namjoon had expected to see him.

Still: hope sprang eternal.

Eventually, Namjoon's feet moved him past the bar, and he passed the quiet restaurant and the closed hair salon, and then the rows of residential entrances, the warm light of Jin & Tonic behind him.

From deep within his pocket, he heard his phone vibrate and chime. When he pulled it out, there was a text message from Hoseok. Namjoon-ah~ My best friend~

Namjoon rolled his eyes. Only Jung Hoseok. Hobah, just ask, he typed back.

What are you doing next week? On the weekend?

It was the only free weekend before they launched Taehyung's exhibition, which would run for six weeks and undoubtedly be a frenzy of activity, especially once Taehyung's photoshoot was published and he gained more acclaim. Namjoon had planned to go for a hike, maybe read a novel, and do all his laundry.

Chores, mostly, he tapped out, neatly sidestepping some uneven sidewalk.

Hoseok's response was near-instant. Wanna come with me to a wedding?

Namjoon hit dial. "A wedding?" he asked, interrupting Hoseok's yeoboseyo. "You don't mean the wedding of your dance client?"

"Yes," Hoseok confirmed, sounding tired.

"The same dance client where you've got a stupid huge crush on one of the grooms?"

"That's the one."

"Hobah," Namjoon said, exasperated, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

"I know! I know, okay." He sighed, staticky in Namjoon's ear. "The tiny adorable half asked me to come to the reception, and I couldn't say no to him.

Namjoon imagined trying to say no to the tiny adorable person in his life -- Park Jimin -- and winced in sympathy. "Okay, I get it. But why me?"

"Well," Hoseok said, sounding reasonable. "If I try to do something stupid, you're the only person I can count on to stop me and be strong enough to haul me out of there in a pinch."

"Collateral damage be damned?" Namjoon's mouth took on a wry twist, not that Hoseok could see it.

"Something like that. He said I didn't have to bring a present, at least."

"Fine, I'll come with you. And I'll bring something as a gift. You can't show up empty-handed to a wedding, that's bad luck or something. It's asking for trouble."

"Namjoon-ah, you're such a good friend. I really owe you one," Hoseok said sincerely.

"You really do," Namjoon agreed, and grinned when he heard Hoseok laugh on his end of the line. "I mean, I'm putting on a suit to attend some stranger's wedding on my only day off for like a month."

"I will buy and grill you all the meat," Hoseok solemnly promised, and Namjoon couldn't help but laugh, bright and sudden in the dark.

A week later, they stood shoulder to shoulder at the wedding hall doors.

"I can't believe you agreed to this," Namjoon grumbled, adjusting his tie. His elbow bumped the small gift bag set in front of him -- even though Jimin had said no presents, Namjoon had insisted on bringing something.

"One doesn't say no to Park Jimin," Hoseok replied, resignation in every line of him. They were both in their best suits, hair combed back and pomaded into place. Namjoon had even put on the cufflinks his father had gifted him for his last birthday.

"The Park Jimin I know is like that too. Must be something about that name." Namjoon sighed. They were in the hotel for the reception, the crowd awaiting the arrival of the newly betrothed couple.

Hoseok overheard bits of conversation -- the vows had been beautiful, the grooms looked incredible, the ceremony heartfelt -- and felt his own heart sink.

"We can still leave," Namjoon said quietly, seeing Hoseok's expression. "They haven't arrived yet, they'd never know you came."

"No," Hoseok said, mustering his courage. "Let's do the damn thing properly."

Namjoon grinned, his dimples showing. "Okay, then. I'm with you."

Right then, a hush fell over the room as the main doors opened. Despite himself and his disappointment, Hoseok looked over to where the couple was entering.

There was Park Jimin, looking radiantly happy as he held onto Kim--

Wait, who was that?

"Hobah," Namjoon said, a thread of alarm in his voice, the applause nearly drowning him out. "Hobah, didn't you say the groom was Kim Yoongi? That's definitely Kim Taehyung. I've hosted his exhibitions twice. That's the Park Jimin I was telling you about."

"That's the Park Jimin I choreographed for," Hoseok whispered back, equally at a loss. "I don't know who the other groom is."

"Introducing the newlywed couple, Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin," the emcee -- wait, that was Seokjin! -- said into the mic, smiling out at the audience. A spotlight appeared and music (familiar music) began to play. The audience rose and gathered around the slightly-raised stage. Namjoon and Hoseok followed, standing a bit back from the edge of the crowd and blending into the shadows of the room.

Sharing a smile, Jimin and Taehyung began to dance the choreo that Hoseok had taught them. Except: Hoseok had taught Jimin and Yoongi, not this stranger. Yet, onstage, Taehyung was performing the choreo exactly, down to the flairs and details that Hoseok had drilled with the couple he'd coached. It would have been unnerving, if he weren't so confused.

"I don't understand," Hoseok said, turning to Namjoon. "If he's not married to Yoongi, then--?"

"Then why was I taking dance lessons?" Hoseok would know that deep voice and that slight accent anywhere. Every hair on his body seemed to stand up. Carefully, he pivoted on a heel.

Yoongi was dressed in a tailored suit, the boutonniere a match for the one Taehyung wore, if less grandiose. He was smiling, but there was an uncertainty to him as well.

Namjoon looked between them, then pretended to notice the bag in his hands. "Oh! I should….put this gift….with the others. Yes. Hobah, I'll be right back." He glanced at Yoongi again. "Maybe I'll get lost on the way back to you, who can say," he added, then stepped away.

"You've been lying to me?" Hoseok felt his hands shake, and he clasped them into fists at his side. "This whole time?"

Yoongi winced. "Yes, but -- look, I'm not Kim Yoongi, I'm Min Yoongi. But I am a producer, and I do run a production studio. Taehyungie and Jiminie were so excited to have been accepted -- but then Taetae was offered an opportunity with an international magazine. He couldn't say no. But taking it meant he'd miss your lessons, and Jimin was heartbroken."

The pieces were falling in place. "So you pretended to be the Kim half of the wedding, so that Jimin's dream wouldn't be lost."

Yoongi nodded, shoulders slumping. "I've known Jiminie and Taetae since they were in high school together. I'm Taehyung's best man," he said, gesturing at his lapel. "I said I'd take the lessons and teach Taehyung when he got back." Yoongi fidgeted, fiddling with a ring he wore -- conspicuously not on either ring finger. "I didn't--I never expected you." And this time, when he raised his eyes, Hoseok saw in Yoongi's expression everything he'd been feeling for the last few weeks.

The music changed, the crowd moving forward onto the raised dais, applauding and pairing off amongst themselves. Seokjin invited everyone onto the dance floor, then set the microphone aside and stepped off the stage. He saw Hoseok and Yoongi, made a comically shocked expression, and then pantomimed going to get a drink.

(Yoongi rolled his eyes and Hoseok hid a smile.)

After a moment, Hoseok reached out, clasping Yoongi's hand and stopping his anxious fiddling. "Min Yoongi. May I have this dance?"

Yoongi beamed, his joyous gummy smile blindingly bright. "I'd love that."

Seokjin jumped down from the stage, the wedding DJ taking over as emcee now that the formal parts of the ceremony were over, and turned to where he'd last seen Yoongi. After a moment, he spotted the other -- but he was with Hoseok, and they were looking right at him.

Caught -- not that he was doing anything?! -- he affected a very shocked expression, like that kid in the movie with the house pranks, and then pantomimed for Yoongi's benefit that he was going to get a drink.

Yoongi rolled his eyes eloquently. He caught Hoseok's smile before he turned his face away to hide it.

Satisfied, he made his way to where the (blessedly) open bar was.

"Hyung-nim."

Seokjin froze. There could only be one person who called him like that, with that much fondness. "Namjoon-ah," he said, turning. His heart started to race. "What are you doing here?"

Namjoon -- who had no business looking that adult in a suit, what the hell -- smiled slightly. "Hobah was invited by one of the grooms. Apparently, he's been choreographing their reception dance." Namjoon's expression turned wry. "But I think you knew that already."

Beyond their bubble, the reception was well underway, the guests dancing and photographs being taken and music playing. Even the aunties were shimmying with Jimin. Seokjin had been given the all-clear; his only job for the rest of the night was to celebrate his friends' marriage.

"I did," Seokjin acknowledged. The room seemed to grow warmer, or maybe that was just him. Namjoon was so close, closer than he'd been in weeks. Seokjin hadn't realized how much he missed the other until this moment, the chasm between them so small and yet so large.

"Would have been nice if you'd told Hoseok," Namjoon replied mildly.

"I might have, if you two came by ever," Seokjin said without thinking. "It's been weeks," he added, quieter.

"Hyung," Namjoon said, voice much closer than before. "You said it yourself. You don't date customers. I can't be a customer if I'm not there."

Seokjin felt his heart pick up speed. "What are you saying," he demanded, keeping his voice steady.

"Are you working this event? As a bartender or anything like that?" Under his slightly-parted bangs, Namjoon's eyes gleamed even in the scant light.

Seokjin was feeling too big for his body. He shook his head. "No. I'm just a guest, a friend of the grooms."

Namjoon took a deep breath. "Come home with me," he said, in a rush, the words almost tripping over each other, so different from the last time he'd asked. "I'm not your customer tonight." He held out a hand. Seokjin noticed it trembled slightly.

He looked at it for a long beat. Then: he slipped his fingers into the broad palm, felt Namjoon's larger hand clasp his gently. He smiled, the real one, the one that had, one way or another, led to that kiss all those weeks ago.

Seokjin had always known what his answer was.

"Yes."

The old-fashioned trot song was terribly romantic, Hoseok thought.

"Is that tall guy you were with…?" Yoongi trailed off, face impassive.

"Namjoonie?" Actually, speaking of his tall platonic date, Hoseok looked around for him. After a moment, he spotted Namjoon by the refreshment table, speaking with-- "Oh, he's talking to Jin-hyung." Hoseok frowned. "Maybe I should go over--"

"Seok-seok-ah," Yoongi interrupted, and Hoseok's attention slid back to his dance partner. His hair was combed off his forehead and Hoseok thought it made him look manly. Hoseok did like a manly guy.

Belatedly, he registered the nickname. "Is that supposed to be me?"

Yoongi looked smug. "I said I was going to give you a nickname, didn't I?"

"You did." Hoseok deftly turned Yoongi, grateful the other had allowed him to lead. "But shouldn't that be Seok-seok-hyung instead?"

Yoongi grinned, so wide that Hoseok could see his gums. "I'm a 93-liner."

Hoseok nearly tripped. "You're a year older than me?"

"Yes," Yoongi confirmed, mischief in his eyes. He turned and, upon finishing his spin, he was now the lead and Hoseok was in the follow role.

"What? What--how--but--"

Without too much fanfare, he dipped Hoseok, as low as they'd practiced, right as the song ended. "I guess this means you should call me hyung," Yoongi murmured.

Hoseok felt himself flush to the roots of his hair.

Namjoon was woken up by the mattress moving. "Hmmm?"

"Hey," came a soft voice, close enough to touch. "Namjoon-ah." A voice he knew.

Seokjin.

Namjoon cracked his eyes open, blinking the blurriness out of his contacts. "Hyung?" He covered his yawn with a hand, and saw Seokjin smile slightly. "What's--?" He pushed himself up, shivering slightly in the chill of the room as the blankets fell away and left his skin exposed. "What time is it?"

Seokjin was watching the fall of the blanket, his eyes tracing the lines of Namjoon's body. He looked like he wanted to trace the lines with more substantial parts of him: his hands, his mouth.

It made Namjoon flush, even as he noticed that Seokjin was half-dressed. "Hyung," he said, not bothering to clear the sleep-roughness out of his voice. "Come back to bed."

He watched as Seokjin considered the request, the conflict obvious in his expression. A rarity.

Namjoon came onto his knees and pulled Seokjin closer by the waistband of his trousers, his unbuttoned shirt fluttering as moved. Namjoon pressed his face into Seokjin's chest and clasped his arms loosely around his hyung's waist. "Stay," he repeated, pressing a kiss there, against the flat plane of muscles, the downy hairs tickling his cheek.

There was a tense, uncertain moment, like the heartbeat where a pin balanced on its point. Then: Seokjin returned the embrace, leaning forward as Namjoon leaned back, settling into and over and tucked beside Namjoon, who pulled the duvet over them both.

"Five more minutes," Seokjin said, but Namjoon could tell he was drifting off already.

When they woke again, the room was brighter, and their bodies were tucked close together, both of them still under the covers. Seokjin kicked off his trousers and Namjoon pushed off Jin's shirt until there wasn't anything between them -- not the bar, not buttons, not hesitation. They moved and twined together so ardently, Namjoon couldn't have said where he ended and Seokjin began. There was only the yes they shared, passed back and forth between them, breath to breath.

Sated, Namjoon found himself being embraced by Seokjin, his hyung's delicate fingers running through his hair.

"Hyung?"

"I like you so much," Seokjin said, something like wonder in his voice, a mournful note in the background of it. "Just. I do."

Namjoon felt his expression soften, the drag of Seokjin's short nails against his scalp lulling him to sleep. "Me too," he sighed. "I like everything about you."

"I'm just me," Seokjin murmured back.

"There's nothing just about you, hyung." Namjoon pressed a kiss against Seokjin's neck, just shy of his Adam's apple, and snuggled closer, drifting off.

When he woke again, the light in his room now dazzling, he was alone. On his oft-abandoned kitchen stove was a simple breakfast, still warm by the time he got to it.

"We fucked," Seokjin said, staring deeply into the depths of his coffee. He didn't even like coffee, yet here he was drinking it while Yoongi, across from him, seemed to glow with joy. Sickening, really.

"I figured," Yoongi drawled, oscillating gently in his chair. They were at Yoongi's studio, today, with Seokjin folded up on the studio couch, a rapidly-cooling Americano in hand. "Hoseokie and I didn't see you after the first or second dance. Was it everything you wanted?"

"It was…" Seokjin drifted off. He wasn't the type to obsess over a single memory, but he'd had that night on loop in the back of his mind for days. Every touch, every soft sound they'd coaxed from each other, the tension and euphoria of it -- he couldn't stop thinking about it.

"Hyung?" Yoongi looked a bit concerned. Seokjin wondered how long he'd been silent. "Are you still there?"

Seokjin swallowed hard. "It was perfect," he said, voice oddly hoarse. To cover up his reaction, he took a long drink of his coffee. It was bitter, the taste a little burnt.

"Are you going to see him again?" Yoongi was looking at him with that knowing stare he sometimes had, the one that usually preceded correct advice that Seokjin wasn't going to want to hear.

"I don't know," Seokjin said, setting his cup down. "I shouldn't. It's probably not a good idea."

"What if," Yoongi postulated. "What if it's a great idea? What if it's the best idea you've ever had?"

"Yoongi--"

"You said perfect." Yoongi's expression was intense, the kind of laid-bare intensity that only someone who truly cared about a person could manage. "Do you understand what a gift perfect is? I know you do. What's stopping you? Grab this with both hands."

"Is that what happened with you and Hoseokie?" Seokjin tried to deflect, change the subject, move the conversation back to Yoongi.

But Yoongi had known Seokjin for too long. "Jiminie gave me an opportunity, so yes. I took it. Your window is still open, you know."

Seokjin nodded, and then was quiet for a long beat. "You seem happy with Hoseok, even if it hasn't been that long yet."

This time, Yoongi turned a delicate kind of pink. "Ah, well, you know. He makes me happy. I like how he looks at the world."

"You like how he looks at you, too."

"Sure," Yoongi replied easily. "Just like you know exactly how Tracksuit looks at you."

Namjoon's dark, molten stare from their night together immediately came to mind, the way everything about him that first go had been heat: his gaze, his touch, his kiss.

"You're blushing," Yoongi said blandly.

Seokjin colored further and set the half-finished Americano aside. "Yah, it's because this drink is hot." He stood up, affecting a petulant posture. "Do you want me to record or not?"

"Get in the booth," Yoongi gestured. "You might want to take off that jacket, if you're feeling warm," he said, grinning as he deftly caught the padding as it was thrown at him. "You missed."

"I was aiming for the couch," Seokjin huffed, pulling the booth door shut behind him.

"He hasn't said anything," Namjoon confirmed, knocking back his soju without ceremony.

He saw Hoseok and Jungkook trade a look. "That sucks," Hoseok said flatly, pouring Namjoon another shot. The tent restaurant table was tiny, but they managed to keep enough space for soju.

"I see him at the gym," Jungkook said. "I could fight him." He sounded a little too eager.

"No," Namjoon instructed, pointing at Jungkook. "I repeat: no."

Beside him, Hoseok snickered into his glass of somaek.

Jungkook smiled and, covering his mouth, drank down his soju, then made a scrunched face. Namjoon was struck by the cuteness.

"What are you going to do?" Hoseok was loose, but Namjoon could see he was attentive. If Namjoon seemed too hurt, Hoseok was going to take matters into his own hands, Godspeed to the person on the other side.

"I don't know," Namjoon admitted. "I haven't gone back to that bar in weeks, and the gallery's been so busy. I'm sure hyung's been busy, too." His voice trailed off towards the end. He sighed. "Not much else I can do."

Jungkook patted the back of Namjoon's hand twice before retreating. "You have done a lot," he said, a bit steely. "You told him where you stand and what you want. You've been so brave, Rapmon-hyung." He deflated a bit, turning shy. "I'm proud of you."

"Adorable," Hoseok said, speaking Namjoon's thoughts. He glommed onto Jungkook, making cooing noises and praising the youngest among them. Jungkook put up a token resistance before preening under the attention.

The ahjumma running the tent came by with dried squid and a basket of skewers, prompting Hoseok and Jungkook to disentangle themselves to thank her politely. When she'd left, Hoseok reached for one of the squid.

"How are things at the gallery?"

"Busy," Namjoon and Jungkook said in unison.

"It's going to calm down," Namjoon said, resolutely. "Once Taehyung's exhibition closes in two weeks, I'm closing the gallery to exhibits for a week or two. I need the break, and we've done more business compared to last year."

Hoseok whistled. "Like, closed-closed? Lights off, the whole thing?"

"It'll be open part-time for preparing shipments and receiving new work for display, but no visitors besides private tours." He turned to Jungkook. "Yes, you'll still get paid full-time."

"It's okay if you didn't," Jungkook said quickly.

"Let your hyung take care of you," Hoseok scolded, tone making it clear he was teasing. Hoseok's gaze flicked back to Namjoon. "Sounds like a lot of choices get made in a couple weeks."

"They do," Namjoon agreed, pouring for himself. "Just gotta get through it." He raised his glass. "To making it."

"Hear hear," the other two echoed, clinking their glasses against his.

After they'd drank, Namjoon smirked. "So how are things with Yoongi-hyung?"

Hoseok seemed to suddenly have stars in his eyes. "Good. Really good. We went to the movies together last week. Did you know he likes superhero movies? He was so excited the whole time." He sighed, clearly content beyond measure.

Namjoon felt a faint pang of jealousy; what would it be like, if Seokjin allowed them to be that happy?

Hoseok pouted, looking a bit guilty. "The cinema gave us both loop-de-loop straws. It made me miss Jin-hyung's bar."

Caught off-guard, Namjoon laughed. "You can still go! Yoongi is best friends with hyung, right? I really don't mind."

But Hoseok shook his head. "Nah, you're my best friend. It'd be disloyal."

Jungkook, however, looked like he was thinking deeply. "I want one of these straws," he said absently.

Namjoon and Hoseok looked at each other, then broke down into snickers.

(But later, after they'd paid their tab and Jungkook was headed home, Hoseok put a hand on Namjoon's shoulder and said, "It's going to be okay."

And for the first time in a while, Namjoon believed it.)

"Okay," Yoongi said, pulling a little away from Hoseok. There was no reason this had to be so nerve-wracking, except, well. His studio was his baby. "Open your eyes."

He watched Hoseok's eyes blink open slowly, taking the space in. "Holy shit," he breathed, looking around. "This is so cool!"

Relief, swift and humbling, slammed into him. "Yeah?" He knew he was smiling.

"Yeah!" Hoseok reached out then froze. "Can I touch?"

Yoongi laughed, the feeling building from his chest. "Yes, you can touch."

Hoseok flitted around the room, hands delicately running over the wood paneling, the speakers, his figurines he kept on one small shelf. Yoongi had liked Hoseok's hands -- liked the way they looked posed gracefully in a flair, liked the way they looked running over soundproof paneling, liked the way they looked splayed on his sheets.

(But that would be a thought for later.)

He watched as Hoseok traced the lip of his mixing console, taking care not to touch any of the sliders. "I always thought they looked so cool," he confessed, looking sheepish.

That made Yoongi smile. "Let me show you what they do," he murmured, and slid his hand over Hoseok's.

Later, when they were sprawled out on Yoongi's studio sofa, it was Yoongi who said, "So Namjoonie and Bartender Hyung are being dummies."

That made Hoseok grin. "I'm glad you think so, too," he replied, toying with the edge of Yoongi's shirt.

His heart ached needlessly, and he hoped one day he could find a sound that captured his exact moment, the feeling of it. "Hyung is scared," Yoongi shared, absorbing the moment, tucking it away. "But he loves his Tracksuit."

"I can't wait until you call him that to his face," Hoseok murmured, wiggling himself closer to Yoongi. "Namjoon isn't afraid, but he's already been brave. Twice. He's been the one to ask hyung."

Yoongi sighed, tipping his head so that Hoseok's hair fluttered. (It made a soft, pleased noise tumble out of him.) "Seokjin just needs...a push. If he's away from the bar, he can be braver, I think." Yoongi hummed. "You know, Taetae's exhibition is closing soon."

Hoseok's eyes gleamed. "I was thinking the same thing."

"I have a feeling," Yoongi said, something wry seeping into his tone, "that we're thinking many of the same things." He slid his hands under Hoseok's shirt, and soon there was nothing except the music between them.

"Hyung," Taehyung said, his wedding band flashing under the track lighting above the bar. "You know my exhibition closes next week, right?"

Seokjin paused in slicing lemons. "Oh?" That meant it had been about two months since Taehyung's wedding. Two months since Seokjin had last seen Namjoon.

(Two months since they had shared something beyond Seokjin's ability to describe.)

"You should come check it out, before we shut down." He tilted his head, a mischievous light coming into his face. "You can dress casually, the last day of an exhibition is pretty relaxed. I'll be there helping wrap everything up."

Taehyung so seldom asked him for anything, Seokjin felt obligated. "Okay," he said. "I'll be there. Text me the address later?"

But Taehyung was already pulling out his phone. "Done."

And so, a week later, he'd gotten Byulyi and Jung-hwan to cover the bar after he'd gotten the night started. He went to the gym, chastising himself for forgetting about the after-office crowds, then showered quickly and threw on his post-workout outfit: loose track pants, a thermal layer, and an oversized hoodie.

The walk to the gallery was quiet, the only real noise was the duffle bag he'd slung over his shoulder thumping against him with each step. The route was familiar; it was a roundabout way of getting to the bar, one he only took if there were construction or protests.

He turned the corner and there was the gallery, unmistakable and lit far brighter than any of the other shops. If the lights hadn't given it away, it would have been Taehyung in the window, chatting with Jungkook. Seokjin quickly crossed the street and pushed the door to let himself in.

"Ah, sorry, we're close--" Jungkook's genial customer service expression gave way to his usual impish one. "Jin-hyung? So you finally came to visit the RKivist."

Seokjin felt something very obvious start to piece itself together. "You're not a librarian."

Jungkook shook his head, beaming.

"This is a gallery."

Jungkook nodded. Beside him, Taehyung covered his mouth with a hand, to hide his smile.

"The gallery you work at." Seokjin glanced around, already overwhelmed.

Jungkook nodded more vigorously. "You should give me your bag, hyung."

Seokjin pulled the bag off on autopilot, mind racing. "The gallery you work at with--"

"Hyung, you should check out my favorite piece," Taehyung cut in smoothly, tugging an unresisting Seokjin by the arm. "It's a massive canvas, through that doorway there. Can't miss it."

"Wait, what about--"

Taehyung gently pushed him into the back room. He stumbled a couple steps and then caught himself, straightening when he saw a tall, familiar figure carefully moving a framed canvas. Seokjin could see the muscles in his back shift under his tight shirt as he set it down in its new place. Seokjin probably should have looked at the artwork, but the only thing he could see was--

"Oh, Jungkook-ah, perfect timing." Namjoon turned around and inhaled sharply. "Hyung-nim."

Who was this Namjoon, dressed in all-black with his hair combed back and wearing horn-rimmed glasses? Seokjin had thought Namjoon had looked grown at Jimin and Taehyung's wedding, in a suit with his hair brushed. This was something else entirely.

"What are you doing here?" Namjoon asked quietly, and Seokjin realized he'd been staring.

"Taetae asked me to come for the closing day of his exhibit," Seokjin replied faintly, hands clutching the ribbed cuffs of his hoodie. "I thought you were a librarian!"

Namjoon smiled. "I'm a gallery owner."

"Holy shit," Seokjin blurted out.

At that, he laughed aloud. "Ah, Seokjin, I've missed you."

The atmosphere shifted, something charged in the air. "I've missed you too. You-- I mean-- Even Hoseokie stopped coming by."

"Sounds like we were pretty important customers," Namjoon joked lightly, staying still where he was.

"You were," Seokjin replied without hesitation, taking a step forward. "You were."

At that, Namjoon clenched his jaw, like he was thinking. "Were? Like past tense?"

"Two months away feels like long enough for the past tense, wouldn't you say?" Inexplicably, Seokjin felt like he was on the verge of tears.

"And you don't intend to buy any of these canvases, do you?"

Seokjin laughed, a little watery. "Namjoon-ah, my bar clears seven million won a week, twelve if there's a holiday. There's no way I could afford any of these."

"Good," Namjoon said, smiling. "I'm going to need you to kiss me, hyung. Would that be okay?"

Seokjin moved forward, an unstoppable force. "Yes," he replied, nodding. Namjoon seemed almost rooted in place, an immovable object -- except, his arms were held open, waiting. 'Yes, please, yes." His arms clasping around Namjoon's waist felt like coming home.

Despite the momentum, the kiss was unhurried. He felt like he was expanding, too large for the confines of himself. Seokjin pulled away and pressed his hands, still half-covered by the cuffs of his sweatshirt, to his face -- only to find that Namjoon's hands were already there, holding his cheeks in those large palms.

"I'm not that special," Seokjin blurted out. "I wear dorky glasses and play video games for like fifteen hours straight on my days off. I dress like this--" He gestured at himself, "when I'm not at the bar. I call my parents every day and we talk for an hour, sometimes about supermarket sales. I like puns and dad jokes and going fishing. Most of my life is the bar, the gym, or my bed."

"Well," Namjoon said after a moment, "fish are friends, not food, but the rest of that I can live with."

Despite himself, Seokjin laughed. "No, Namjoon-ah! Listen! I know I am a mysterious and alluring hyung behind the bar, but I'm just...me."

But Namjoon shook his head, sliding his arms over Seokjin's shoulders. How long had Namjoon been pressed against a workbench? "I told you already," he said, hopping up to sit on the table. He parted his knees and pulled Seokjin closer, pressing his mouth to Seokjin's neck. "There's nothing just about you."

"How--" Seokjin gasped when Namjoon nipped at a sensitive spot. His hand squeezed one of Namjoon's thighs, both warning and encouragement. "How can you know that?"

He felt Namjoon smile against his jaw, and had to suppress a shiver. "Hyung. Yes, you're gorgeous. But you're hardworking." He pressed a kiss to the hinge of Seokjin's jaw. "You're kind." He kissed the other side. "You're smart -- some of those puns on your menu are triple entendres." He pressed a kiss to one cheekbone. "You're brave -- I saw you break up fights and throw out harassers more than once." He kissed the other cheekbone. "You're considerate. You take care of your employees." He pressed a kiss to Seokjin's nose. Seokjin felt himself go cross-eyed.

"Namjoon-ah."

"I've seen you show who you are over and over, for more than a year." Namjoon beamed, joy in every line of his face. "I'm not in love with you because you're handsome. I'm in love with you because of who you are, Cheeto dust and separation anxiety and all."

Seokjin sniffled and laughed. "Yah, that's not fair, you said it so casually."

Namjoon shrugged. "It's just the truth. I'm in love with you, and I can wait for you to catch up, however long that takes."

Seokjin pulled back and swiped at his misty eyes with his sleeve. "Well, good news you won't have to wait very long."

Something sparkled in Namjoon's expression.

He wrapped his arms tighter around Namjoon's waist. "As luck would have it, I'm in love with you, too."

"Fucking finally," Jungkook's voice said, overloud. The two of them whipped their heads around to see their five other friends peeking in through the open doorway. Yoongi, the gremlin, was smiling his gummy smile, Hoseok looked ready to have kittens, Jimin was crying, and Taehyung was watching Jungkook record the entire ordeal on his phone.

"You'd better delete that," Seokjin yelled, brandishing a fist. Jungkook cackled and made a break for it, Taehyung and Jimin hot on his heels.

Yoongi and Hoseok straightened up, revealing that they were holding hands.

"I strongly suggest an April wedding," Yoongi drawled. "The cherry blossoms are very romantic."

"I'm never giving you a free drink again," Seokjin declared darkly. Suddenly, he found himself with an armful of Namjoon, who was shaking with laughter.

Coda:

It was a lively Thursday night when Namjoon -- wearing a navy blue tracksuit, the one Seokjin liked best and which Taehyung had dramatically pointed to one night and said, "That! That's your best color, hyung!" -- slid into his usual spot at the bar. Beside him was Hoseok, already sipping a beer, his straw spelling out no ♥ in loop-de-loops. Next to him was Yoongi, his own glass of wine getting low.

"Hi, hyung," he said, smiling. "One of my usual, please."

Seokjin smoothly pulled the tap and poured Namjoon his usual beer, then set it on a cardboard coaster in front of him. "First one's on me, gotta treat my best customer right."

"What are we, then," Yoongi asked, pouting.

"Not my best customer," Seokjin replied, winking outrageously. "Hey have you met my new hire? This is Choi Soobin." He gestured at the willowy, baby-faced kid next to him who looked a little overwhelmed by the array of taps. He waved shyly at the crew of people Seokjin gestured to.

"Hey, welcome," Namjoon said warmly, then turned to Seokjin. "Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin are coming by later, you know."

"I won't let them corrupt this one."

"That's what you said about Yugyeom, and then…"

"We don't speak of that," Seokjin commanded, pointing at Namjoon with his eyebrows raised.

Later, after Taehyung and Jimin and Jungkook had arrived and most of the crowd had thinned out until it was just their cadre of friends and a few regulars, Namjoon propped his chin on his hand. "So, hyung, are you coming home with me tonight?" A joke between them, so overdone during the past year that all their friends just rolled their eyes.

But Soobin blinked at Seokjin. "I thought we weren't allowed to date customers."

"We're not," Seokjin confirmed, grinning.

Namjoon opened his mouth to explain, but Seokjin cut him off. "No," he said, "the kid's got a point." He pulled off his apron and tossed it aside, ducking the flap to come around to the other side of the bar.

He pulled a baffled-looking Namjoon off the stool he was perched on. "Namjoon," he said, his voice resonant and carrying in the quiet space. "I've realized how important it is to me that I not be dating one of my customers. It's setting the kind of example I don't want to, for my staff. That's why I think we shouldn't date anymore."

Namjoon now looked pained. "Hyung--"

Seokjin knelt down and held out of a box. "Kim Namjoon, will you marry me?"

For a moment, Namjoon was clearly stunned. Then, he stomped his foot, a small tantrum. "Dammit, I was going to propose tomorrow, this isn't fair!"

"Yah, just say yes!" Seokjin chided, but he was laughing.

"Of course I say yes," Namjoon complained, pulling Seokjin to his feet and helping his fiancé slide the ring onto his hand. "And of course you had to be dramatic about it, why do I even like you?"

Seokjin grinned and posed with his hands under his chin. "Because I'm handsome?"

"It doesn't hurt," Namjoon agreed, and pulled him in for a kiss while all their friends cheered and swarmed them.