Chapter Text
It started on a Tuesday.
Namjoon was working from home, a result of a unique and rather specific set of circumstances that involved partners who were sick, taking holiday, or otherwise unable to go to the office. There was no reason to be in the sharply detailed, professional space when there was nobody to bounce ideas off of or share drafts with. As much as Namjoon sometimes thrived on having an office to go to where his focus was directed to the necessities, he was excited about spending a week at home. He wondered how his verdant wall of house plants might influence his ideas differently from the cool colours and steel accents of the office.
Monday had seen Namjoon home, too, of course, but Tuesday stood out, because at ten o’clock on Tuesday morning a moving truck blared its backup alarms as it pulled into the neighbouring driveway.
Although Namjoon had always been what one would consider a courteous neighbour (he wasn’t the one to gossip or snoop into business that wasn’t his own), he couldn’t help but lean to the right so he could peek out the front window.
The neighbourhood in which Namjoon lived was well-appointed. Upper-middle-class, but not home to the ultra-wealthy. It backed onto a large green space that the kids in the area called a forest, although it was really more of a manicured park with a focus on native floral diversity and a healthy number of trees. The streets were quiet, and Namjoon’s street had an incline toward a lookout point at the top of the park. The new neighbour would be up the hill from Namjoon, in a home that had been vacant for several months since the previous owner had passed away.
Surely any neighbour would have been curious to see the person who had invested in the property. Namjoon had wondered what parts of the home would be renovated, as some things clearly needed it. Some people had hinted that the house might be levelled all together, but Namjoon thought that would be a shame. It was one of the last original Craftsman homes in the area, which had seen more modern and contemporary builds since Namjoon had moved in.
Namjoon didn’t have anything against those homes. He’d even had a hand in creating some of them, and he was proud of the buildings that had come from his designs. As an architect, though, he had a special appreciation for the various historical styles that had laid way for modern concepts. His own home was another of the old builds, but he had updated it so it was more of a contemporary craftsman bungalow. It still held all the character of its history, but it also suited his passions for gardening and nature.
It didn’t strike Namjoon that he had been fully staring at the moving truck until he’d been doing it so long, all while leaning over further every few seconds, that he fell right out of his chair and tumbled sideways to the floor.
Cursing, Namjoon picked himself up, shook out his long limbs, and decided to do something brave. He looked at his messenger to be sure no one was trying to get his attention, and then he took his coffee up and walked to the front door. He didn’t pay much attention as he slipped on whichever pair of shoes was there and opened the door to go stand on the porch.
Namjoon really did pride himself on being a good neighbour, though. He didn’t want to make this person - or perhaps these people - feel as though they were being spied on. So he did his best to look busy. The garbage went out on Wednesday, and he hadn’t taken the last bags from his home yet, so that wouldn’t do. His eyes flitted around his yard to the mailbox, across the plants, over to the hedges on the opposite end of the property, and then finally settled on the paper he’d yet to pick up that morning.
Well, maybe there were small advantages to a week of broken routines.
Taking a sip from his mug, Namjoon strode down the path and stopped to pick up the paper from where it had landed practically in his petunias. He’d have to try to get up early so he could ask the delivery person to try and mind their aim, or else leave a note with a morning snack somewhere it would be easily found. It was one thing to damage flowers - one, very sad thing, in Namjoon’s opinion - but what he was really worried about was that one day the paper would fly into his food garden and crush an emerging head of lettuce or a vine of tender tomatoes.
Halfway back up the path to the house (which was really only a few steps) Namjoon suddenly remembered that getting the paper hadn’t been the purpose but the excuse for this little excursion. Slowing his steps, he turned his head toward the inevitable chaos that came with movers and tried to determine which of the people there was the new homeowner.
It was obvious, really. The movers were all clad in jeans and a matching blue polo shirt, and they were busy setting up ramps and door jams and other tools they’d need to complete their work. Standing off to the side, watching the people moving up and down the stairs to the porch, was a person with short dark hair that fell in thick, soft waves around their forehead and ears. They had a slightly wide button nose and round cheeks, but when they turned their head a certain way Namjoon could see the definition of their jaw and a profile that sent happy little tingles down his spine.
Oh , Namjoon thought. That was not what he’d expected. Usually when he saw people who appeared to be his own age moving into this neighbourhood they were surrounded by family, moving up into a home that suited their children. Namjoon was getting ahead of himself, though. Just because this person was alone now didn’t mean that a gaggle of children and a loving partner wouldn’t show up some time later in another vehicle.
Once again time had gotten away from Namjoon, only this time it wasn’t his own body that informed him of the error. This time it was the way the neighbour turned their head until their dark eyes met Namjoon’s, and the tiniest smile appeared on their face.
Like a cat , Namjon’s mind helpfully supplied before it reminded him that he’d been staring for what was probably several minutes at that point. Startled, Namjoon’s eyes went wide, and as he turned to hurry inside the coffee splashed out of his cup and only missed his chest because he managed to hold his hand out just in time. Groaning, Namjoon hurried to his door, but before he went inside, the most wonderful sound met his ears.
“Good morning!” The slightly gruff voice wasn’t too loud as it passed between their homes, but enough so to be heard over the rest of the ruckus, and it followed with a deep, warm chuckle that echoed in Namjoon’s mind as he closed the door.
Busy with work, Namjoon didn’t head out the front door again until the evening when he put on Moni’s leash to take him out for a walk. When he did he couldn’t help but look over to the house again. The moving truck had gone, but there was still only one vehicle in the driveway. It seemed the neighbour was inside, which was fair considering they likely had a good amount of work to do around the place. He could see a light on in the lower level and for a moment thought about going to introduce himself, but then Moni gave a little bark to remind him of the task at hand. Another time, Namjoon thought before he set down the path and up the hill toward the lookout and the path through the park.
The thing about working from home was that Namjoon really did lose his morning routine. Instead of taking Moni for a longer walk, he let him out in the backyard while he made his pour over coffee. Then he let the dog in and went to his bedroom to get dressed, pulling on casual wear. Typically even Namjoon’s casual clothing consisted of relaxed fit slacks and linens rather than active wear, but on Wednesday he slung on his grey sweatpants and a white tee because he knew that he didn’t have any meetings and it was just that sort of day.
After he was dressed, Namjoon would finish that first cup of coffee, head to the yard to pick up after Moni (who thankfully had a favoured spot, making it easier to find), and tried to figure out what to do with himself for an hour before he was meant to start work.
Moni didn’t seem to know what to do with Namjoon’s presence, either, because he paced and yawned for a moment before he jumped up on the loveseat and wagged his tail tentatively. Laughing, Namjoon went to have a seat and welcomed the dog to lay his front half in his lap so he could get some extra scritches.
It certainly wasn’t a bad way to start the morning, Namjoon thought. A second cup of coffee, the warmth of his dog (and the happy noises Moni made) and the sun coming through the front windows as it rose higher in the sky made for a soft, pleasant welcome to a new day.
The highlight of the morning, though, was when Namjoon saw the neighbour pushing their garbage can to the curb - and suddenly realized that he had not yet put out his own.
Jumping up, Namjoon set down his coffee and raced to the kitchen to get the garbage bin. He hurried outside, barely getting the slides onto his feet before he rushed to the side of the house and dumped his garbage as quickly as possible. He practically ran his can to the curb, and it was a good thing, considering that the truck was at the other neighbour’s place as he got there.
Okay, so the work-from-home routine needed a little work.
Huffing as he stepped back, Namjoon stilled when he heard a familiar laugh nearby. It was the second time Namjoon had seen his new neighbour, and the second time he had embarrassed himself in the process. “Cutting it a little close this morning, aren’t you?”
Namjoon really, really wanted to hear that voice more. He wanted to listen to the neighbour tell their life story, or maybe just read the silliest article in the morning paper, or maybe he just wanted to hear these pleasantries. It was just such a nice voice. Warm within the rough edge, which was more pronounced that morning, deep and soothing and seemingly amused.
“Uh, yup,” Namjoon croaked as he turned around, just managing to keep his eyes from being saucers. “Thanks uh, thanks for the reminder,” he added. The neighbour tilted their head at that, their left eyebrow lifting a bit in confusion, and Namjoon realized what he had said.
Make that three times Namjoon had embarrassed himself in front of his brand new neighbour.
“I just. You were. And I - I - I’ve gotta go start work, actually.” It was kind of a shitty excuse, but it was true, Namjoon realized as he looked at his watch. This was why his garbage can usually went out on Tuesday night, because Namjoon could never quite get up early enough to add it into his morning when he had to go to the office.
It wasn’t that Namjoon was trying to be rude, it was just that he realized he was meant to log into the system in two minutes, and while his work was relatively flexible, he really didn’t want to look like he was slacking when he was working from home. So, he didn’t say anything else as he turned and hurried back to the house. He wasn’t able to close the door before he heard a friendly, “have a nice day!” called out behind his back.
After that, Namjoon didn’t see the neighbour for a while. No new cars arrived at the place, no children could be heard in the yard, and at least as far as Namjoon could tell there was no regular visitor that might indicate a partner. The rest of his work week had been busier, and he hadn’t been out front again in the mornings.
It wasn’t until the next Tuesday night, when Namjoon was taking his garbage to the curb, that he caught a glimpse of his neighbour lounging on a garden chair with a pair of headphones over their ears. Their head seemed to bob as their lips moved just slightly, but Namjoon couldn’t make out the sound of any words. When the can was set at the curb, Namjoon went to stand next to the little pear tree at the end of his garden - a spot which didn’t quite hide his tall, increasingly-bulky form, but did provide a little more privacy than his open path.
From the sheltered spot, Namjoon watched and smiled as the neighbour seemed to sigh and lean back on the seat with a smile. Their eyes opened, but they focused somewhere up in the sky, or perhaps along the treeline. This was something Namjoon could relate to - assuming there was music on the headphones, he thought of how he sometimes liked to pair the sounds of his favourite songs to certain times of day or particular seasons or weather changes and events. Everything else could disappear for a while and it was just Namjoon and his music and the green earth that gave him a home.
Lost in thought, Namjoon didn’t hear the footsteps approaching before a small hand tugged at his shirt. Starting a bit, Namjoon sighed as he turned to see the little boy who lived on the other side of his house holding a frisbee. “Hey Mr. Kim! Can Moni come out to play for while?”
Although Namjoon didn’t really have plans for children of his own, he did enjoy watching the neighbour kids play with his dog, and Moni was gentle and happy as he got to run and tumble with humans smaller than his own. That was how Namjoon finished his Tuesday, but not without another glance toward the Craftsman up the hill. There he saw a figure standing near the property line, looking across the plants with a smile on their face. Namjoon blushed as he turned his head and looked back to the kid.
It was every Tuesday night, after that. Namjoon didn’t mean to spy, but he found himself looking out the window as he ate supper until he finally learned that the neighbour took out their garbage around six and then popped on the headphones and took to the garden chair. Even as the sun began to set a little earlier, the neighbour stuck to their routine, and eventually a few lights were installed in the garden.
As it was, Namjoon had already been in the habit of taking his garbage out on Tuesday nights, so it wasn’t a stretch that he pushed himself to do it a little earlier, early enough that sometimes he saw the neighbour getting settled, rather than just as they sat, completely unaware of anyone else in the world. He even waved once when they were both at the curb at the same time, but he hurried back inside before he could embarrass himself once again.
The thing about not talking to the neighbour was that Namjoon had stopped embarrassing himself around them. Keeping his mouth shut and keeping to spots where he didn’t think he could be seen meant that he didn’t worry about being caught staring and he didn’t say things to expose his strange behaviour. He couldn’t explain why he was so fascinated by this stranger. Maybe it was the laugh, or the way they got lost in the sounds coming from their headphones, or maybe it was the way Namjoon had seen them stop and pet the neighbourhood cats a few times when they’d crossed paths on walks. He couldn’t help it, but he also couldn’t find the courage to go and actually have a conversation.
A few months after the neighbour had moved in, Namjoon came down with a cold. It wasn’t so serious, but his eyes were puffy and his head was throbbing and it was honestly enough to make himself tea and heat up soup in the microwave, let alone take the garbage to the curb. He reasoned that he could just tamp it down for the next week so it wasn’t overflowing.
Laying on his sofa, Namjoon had the lights set low and some mellow r&b playing to help himself relax since he couldn’t bring himself to sleep when it was still so early and he’d been doing that most of the day, anyway. The first clue that someone was coming was that Moni sat up and patted over to the spot he liked to wait at near the door. Then came the knock, and Namjoon groaned as he pulled himself up to a seated position.
“Just a minute!” Namjoon called out the words, but he wasn’t sure whether anyone would be able to hear him. It took him too long to stand, and as soon as he did he only wanted to go back to the couch. Somehow he managed to think quickly enough to grab a mask and slip it over his mouth and nose in hopes that he’d both prevent some of the spread of germs and cover some of his awful, pallid appearance.
The sight at Namjoon’s door was a genuine surprise. A surprise that made him panic, because he was wearing ratty pajamas and his hair was a mess and his face really did look awful, even if it was half covered by a mask. Namjoon had been disappointed to miss seeing the neighbour, but he didn’t want them to see him like this either. “Uhhhhh,” Namjoon’s mind went blank as he stared at the neighbour, who seemed to be rocking back and forth on their feet a bit.
“Oh!” The neighbour looked up, surprised, and then frowned. “Oh I see - I was, well…” Squeezing their eyes shut, the neighbour scrunched up their face and then took a breath before they started again.
“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I took out my garbage and went to listen to music on the lawn, but then I didn’t see you come out. I um. Yeah look, the tree doesn’t really hide you very well,” they explained, and Namjoon could feel what little colour was still in his cheeks draining rapidly. “I don’t mind!”
The hurried words startled Namjoon, who snapped up to a straighter posture. “That is - well, if I know you’re looking….” They paused, opened their eyes a little wider as if they were waiting for Namjoon to put something together, and then smiled as if they knew something he did not.
“How about - I’m sorry, I can see you’re not feeling well,” the neighbour apologized. “Um, I’ll take your can up to the curb for you, okay? Would it uh - would you mind if I checked in on you in the morning? I promise not to come too early.”
Namjoon honestly didn’t know what to make of this. For months he had been quietly watching his neighbour, but apparently he hadn’t been the only one looking. What did that mean? Even if he weren’t sick, Namjoon knew he would probably be failing to read whatever social cues were being dropped, but at least he could blame the illness for the time being. A little uncertain, he nodded in agreement.
For a moment there was silence, and then Namjoon managed to think of one thing. “Wait uh, I - what’s your name? Um. I’m. Joon. Namjoon,” he offered with a little wave, opting not to shake hands, all things considered.
“I’m Yoongi,” the neighbour smiled. “Get some rest, Namjoon. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Namjoon couldn’t wait to see if it was a fever dream or if that had actually just happened.