Chapter Text
When Namjoon was 18, he had planned out his whole life in a green notebook.
He was going to go to university, graduate with an English degree, become a teacher and spend his days sculpting the minds of the youth. He was going to meet someone, fall in love, get married and have children. Three children to be precise, two girls and a boy that he would quit his job to take care of. And when they were old enough to go to school, he would spend his time writing a book, or poetry, or something.
Life threw more than a couple of curveballs his way.
He never graduated from university. He never became an English teacher. He had been in love but never been married. The only part of his plan that ever came to fruition was a tiny swaddle of blankets in his arms, tiny button nose and dark shock of hair and fingers that curled around the tip of his thumb.
His Eunjoo, his little flower.
“She’s so precious,” his best friend Hoseok cooed, stroking a finger across her cheek. A stroke of pride and affection filled Namjoon’s chest with his words. She was precious, a diamond that had emerged from the rough rocks of his life. "How's house hunting going? Any luck on your forever home?”
And that was a thing. Namjoon has been living in the same apartment for five years, a spacious two bedroom with an untouched kitchen and canvases stacked against walls. It wasn’t the kind of place you raised a child, too many sharp edges and no outdoor space.
“No luck,” he shrugged, thinking back on all the houses he’d visited so far. Too big, too small, too far from the city, too close.
“Have you thought about what I said?” Hoseok prompted. He meant the architect, the one that he and Seokjin had hired to redesign their house. He’d done a fine job, Namjoon had to admit. The entire place was so intrinsically them, as though it had pieces of them woven into the very walls. A home, a real home.
It's all Namjoon wants. For Eunjoo.
Maybe starting from scratch would be a good idea. He had a plot of land in his name after all, one that his grandfather had left for him in his will.
“Okay,” Namjoon sighed, “I’ll talk to him, see if he’s any good,”
"He's the best," Hoseok squealed, pulling a card from his wallet and tucking it into Namjoon's hand, "you’re gonna love him. He really listens to everything you say."
"Thanks, Hob-ah," Namjoon said, staring down at the name on the card.
Min Yoongi.
The same name stared down at him a week later from a plain black door, a tiny doorbell perched to the left. He pressed it, fingers fumbling with his bag nervously, and not two minutes later the door swung open.
The man in front of him was nothing like what Namjoon had been expecting.
Every architect he'd seen had been polished, refined, suits and glasses and bright white smiles. Min Yoongi looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, scuffed sneakers poking out of the bottom of ripped jeans and hair ruffled in every direction.
"Ah, you must be Hoseok's friend," his voice was deep, lazy and it did something strange to Namjoon's insides.
"I'm Kim Namjoon," he held out his hand nervously, "nice to meet you."
"Min Yoongi," he replied, shaking his hand with a warm smile.
Yoongi's hand was big and rough against his palm, but shaded with the most delicate of pallets; ivory skin marbled with the gentle blush of pink knuckles and threads of pale blue veins. It matched the gentle pinkness of his nose, his lips, his cheeks. A watercolour painting in the flesh.
"Come inside Namjoon-ssi," Yoongi stepped aside, letting Namjoon into his office. It was all sleek wood surfaces and floor to ceiling windows with blossoms of colour flourishing from bookshelves and trinkets. Namjoon found himself smiling at a collection of glass frogs sitting on a shelf as Yoongi guided him to a seat.
“Would you like a drink?”
“Water should be fine.” Namjoon glanced around the office in awe. It looked like the kind of office you saw in films, city views and certifications framed on the walls, but with personal touches that made it unique in the most simple of ways.
"So Namjoon-ssi," Yoongi slid a glass of water across the desk before sitting down, "What can I do for you today?"
"Oh," Namjoon cleared his throat flustered, "I uh, I have a plot of land in my name and I was hoping to uh… build a house there."
"Do you have permission?" Yoongi began to scribble down.
"Yeah, yeah I can build there," Namjoon could feel his knee bouncing, suddenly nervous, "Um, I have to send a, uh, drawn up plan before we can actually start building though or something."
"Don't worry, that's standard procedure," Yoongi smiled kindly, "can you tell me a little about why you want to build a new home Namjoon-ssi?"
Namjoon rubbed a hand down his thigh self-consciously, “I’ve been living in the same apartment for years and… I have a daughter now. I want to build us a forever home. Somewhere where we can spend time together, where she can play and grow and when she’s older have her own space.”
Yoongi’s eyes softened significantly, “that sounds lovely. I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out together. Do you have any idea of a budget?”
Namjoon's eyes flitted to the side, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, "anything up to a million dollars."
The architect paused for a second before scribbling down again, "that should give us some flexibility to work with."
Namjoon found himself fascinated by his hands once again. They were beautiful, the sort of hands that should belong to an artist or a pianist and he wanted to paint them, wanted to know if he could match the exact shades of cotton candy that seemed to make up this man.
"I know you said Hoseok recommended me to you," Yoongi's voice broke through his thoughts, "But I'm going to email you a copy of my portfolio, just so you can double check if my designs are what you're interested in, is that okay?"
"Oh yeah of course," Namjoon nodded, standing up and dusting invisible lint from his sleeve.
"And if you have any queries please feel free to send me an email, I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Then if everything is up to your satisfaction we can set up an appointment for some initial ideas and sketches."
"That sounds amazing, thank you so much Yoongi-ssi," Namjoon held out his hand, clammy as ever, but the architect took it in a firm shake.
"No problem Namjoon-ssi, I hope to see you again soon."
**
Soon was a little difficult on Namjoon's calendar.
For starters he had a three month old to coddle and feed and change whenever she demanded, wails cutting through the silence of his apartment. And on top of that, Mrs Lee from across the hall had been taken ill meaning he had no childcare for Eunjoo if he needed to go out.
It was a disaster, really.
He had taken the time to look through Min Yoongi's portfolio, the shapes and colours impressive even to his untrained eye. He wanted him to design their home, he was sure of it, he just didn't know how or when he was going to be able to make a second appointment.
He had just managed to settle Eunjoo down to sleep when his phone began to buzz, a call threatening to disturb the fragile quiet that had finally been allowed to settle on the apartment. He hissed out a breath between his teeth, practically running out of the nursery as he swiped to pick up, "Hello Kim Namjoon speaking!"
"Namjoon-ssi, this is Min Yoongi from V-cut Studios," his voice sounded even deeper over the phone line.
"Oh Min Yoongi-ssi, I'm so sorry I haven't been in contact. Things have been a little hectic recently," he huffed, running a hand through his hair.
"That's quite already Namjoon-ssi. Did you take a look at my portfolio? Were things to your satisfaction or would you prefer to seek a different architect for your new home?"
"No!" Namjoon blurted out, then mentally slapped himself, "I mean, yes I managed to take a look but no I wouldn't like to find someone else. Your designs are beautiful."
"Thank you," Yoongi's voice held the hint of a smile, "would you like to proceed and book a second appointment with me then?"
"Ah," Namjoon chewed on his lip, "I really would love to Yoongi-ssi but I don't know when I'll next have time to spare, my usual childminder is ill and I can't leave my daughter alone…"
"This experience is supposed to be at your ease Namjoon-ssi," Yoongi's voice crackled, "if there's anything I can do to make things less burdensome for you please let me know."
"I…" Namjoon glanced around his apartment, "I mean… you could come here?"
"I'm sorry?"
Namjoon cleared his throat, "You could come to my apartment, there's plenty of space and I'd be able to keep an eye on Eunjoo- my daughter- better. If that's okay, Yoongi-ssi."
There was a pause, loud and long enough for Namjoon to regret his suggestion, but when Yoongi finally spoke up it was with a hum of agreement, "If you consent to having me present in your home then that can be arranged, Namjoon-ssi. I have some available slots this afternoon or on Friday if that's any good for you?"
Namjoon glanced around the apartment, "this afternoon should be fine Yoongi-ssi, thank you so much."
"Two o'clock?"
"Two o'clock."
When two o'clock rolled around, Namjoon half expected Min Yoongi to be wearing the suit that he'd lacked at their last meeting, but was pleasantly surprised to be met with loose fitting trousers and an oversized t-shirt, both a shade of black that contrasted nicely with the ivory of his skin. They'd gotten to work almost immediately, papers spread out across the coffee table and veiny hands drawing rough lines in succession with Namjoon's words.
He didn't think it would be this easy. Talking to Yoongi, sharing his thoughts, correcting his drawings to suit his needs… It felt like a conversation between friends. He barely noticed the steady ticking of the clock or the sun's movement across the sky.
"You have good vision," Yoongi said, reaching to sip at the coffee that Namjoon had brought for him a short while before, "if you're happy with this sketch I can take it away and-"
He was cut off by the sound of crying.
Namjoon was up and out of the room in an instant, his mind only focused on Eunjoo, Eunjoo, Eunjoo , fatherly instincts flaring in his chest at the sound of her anguish.
She was red faced and tiny in the seemingly huge cot, each tear leaking from the corners of her eyes like a tiny dart to Namjoon's chest as he scooped her up with a coo.
"Hey baby girl, what's the matter hm? Did you have a bad dream?" She only shrieked louder, the sound echoing off the walls of the hallway as he made his journey back to where the architect was sitting.
"Eunjoo baby, we have a guest. Are you going to stop crying so he can say hi, hm?"
Yoongi's eyes were trained on the weeping bundle in his arms as he made his way over to the sofa, something undeniably sweet in his expression despite the obvious disturbance.
"She's got quite the set of lungs," he chuckled.
"She's the perfect alarm clock in the morning," Namjoon joked, "aren't you, hm? Always making sure I'm up and ready for the day, even at 3am."
Yoongi's smile melted into something more thoughtful as he watched Namjoon coo at the sobbing infant, "I hope this isn't a sensitive question," he said softly, "but does she have another parent?"
"Ah, no," Namjoon shook his head as he jostled her gently, her sniffles calming the more he rocked her back and forth, "I'm raising her alone."
"I've always had great respect for single parents," Yoongi hummed, peering down at Eunjoo's finally relaxed face, her breathing deep and even, "it must be tiring not to have a partner to lean on, you know?"
"It is, sometimes," Namjoon offered a wry smile to the architect, "But she makes it easy."
"You must love her alot."
"I-" the breath caught in his throat as he looked down at the tiny baby in his arms. His daughter. His little girl. Love didn't seem a big enough word for the emotion threatening to burst from the seams of his heart. He glanced back up, mouth opening and closing around the shapes of words that wouldn't come, but Yoongi's softened gaze told him that he knew. That somehow, this practical stranger understood the overwhelmingly wonderful feeling sweeping through Namjoon's body everytime he looked at his daughter.
"I should go," Yoongi whispered suddenly, breaking eye contact to gather his papers together, "we've done all we can today anyways. I'll take these sketches away and work on making them neater and more detailed, and we can make another appointment at a later date. How does that sound?"
"Perfect," Namjoon murmured, offering a smile to the architect. To his surprise the shorter man's cheeks turned a delicate shade of rose and he practically tripped over himself to get to the front door.
And then he was gone, the only sign that he'd ever been there a half empty coffee cup and the gentle aroma of pine still hanging in the air.
**
Min Yoongi wasn’t the most conventional of architects, but he was damn good at his job.
He worked tirelessly through university, attending events and extra curriculars despite his already weighted schedule, just to shake hands with professionals and garner connections.
It paid off, when he graduated, a bouquet of business cards between his fingers and his dream well within his grasp. He didn't pause to wonder if this was really all he wanted in life, gruelling hours behind a desk and numb fingers grey with lead, until he was twenty seven and alone, wondering when he had thrown away the parts of life worth living in order to make a living.
Was a dream really worth achieving if it came at the expense of everything else?
He'd been lucky to come across a firm, V-cut Studio, small in size but huge in name, they were known to have gained popularity quickly despite being relatively new to the architectural landscape. A fresh face in an industry that so desperately needed a new angle, and Yoongi was lucky enough to have been accepted into their ranks and granted the ability to work independently.
He'd built himself a reputation before, but under V-cut his calendar was never empty, appointments flooding in for new designs, but as per regulation he had a day off per week to just… live again. To breathe out in the cold air or to take up a hobby or to lounge around watching TV shows and… he was lucky. He knew he was lucky, had watched people much older than him working themselves to the bone in search of a paycheck that would never really pay off.
Which is why he always prided himself in being the best architect he could be. Unconventional, sure. A little quirky, sure. But unprofessional? Never. He had always respected the boundaries set by clients, had always understood that even if they shared personal fragments of their lives, this was strictly a business relationship.
Until Namjoon.
The man was an amalgamation of everything Yoongi had ever valued in a person: kind, intelligent, loving, devoted to his family. It seemed almost unfair that such a beautiful heart could come wrapped in such a beautiful package too, tan skin and dimpled smile and eyes that could melt even the coldest of hearts. He'd only met the man twice and yet he could feel it like an itch under his skin.
Yoongi was developing a crush on a client. A client with a daughter no less.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers as he stared down at the sketches littering his desk. The gentle way in which Namjoon had held Eunjoo, the love that seemed to overflow from every fiber of his being as he'd stared down at her… It was like drawing a moth to a flame.
He groaned, knocking his head against his desk gently. He only had to see Namjoon a few more times. It would be fine, he was a professional after all. He could ignore his silly little feelings, do the job he was paid to do and then forget that Kim Namjoon and his precious daughter had ever existed.
If only it had been that simple.