Chapter Text
As the years passed, Namjoon found himself becoming more content. There were trials (of course there were) and moments when he felt like he was drowning, only for his members to pull him back above the water again, but overall, as he grew up, he felt like he became more and more himself. Even with all of the stress that came with the life he was living, all of the hate and vile things he and his members and fans had had thrown at them, they were there for each other through it all in their own ways, and Namjoon knew that despite it all, he’d truly grown into himself. He felt more at peace now than he could remember ever feeling in his life.
So it was odd for him to see Jimin and Taehyung plastered on top of one another one day and feel… longing. It was so faint, so buried beneath the more familiar fondness he always felt when he saw his members smiling, that he didn’t recognize it at first. That miniscule discomfort tickled under his skin for only a moment before it was gone, too fast for him to properly grasp it. He shook it off, continuing on his way and not giving it another thought. He’d thought of lyrics while he was in the car and he needed to write them down on the notepad he’d accidentally left in his room before these thoughts left his mind too.
That feeling became more familiar as time passed, but he still didn’t think anything of it when it popped up. It just became another thing that he’d eventually figure out when he had the time. He had work to do and this wasn’t affecting that or his relationships, so it could wait.
As he sat with the others in the living room though, a movie that he wasn’t paying attention to in front of him, he realized that maybe this was something a little more pressing than he’d thought.
Instead of watching the screen, he found himself continuously glancing over at the couches.
Jimin and Taehyung had, once again, seemed to fuse into a single mass as they cuddled together, but this time they had dragged Yoongi into it with them. He had started out the movie sitting normally on one side of the couch, but as his dongsaengs had stretched out together, he’d been pulled into cuddling with them and now had their heads laying together in his lap, both of his hands playing with their hair.
On their other couch, Jungkook had folded himself up against Hoseok completely and his friend happily held their maknae close, leaving Seokjin to sprawl comfortably across the now free space. His hand, however, would come up and rub Jungkook’s back or gently poke his side every now and then to see the younger laughingly cringe away from him during the slower scenes of the movie.
The fondness and love that Namjoon always felt was still there as he glanced at them, but that odd feeling made itself known again as his eyes took them in from where he was curled up in a mound of pillows and blankets on the floor.
He couldn’t put it into words, even to himself. It was longing, yes. But mixed in were undercurrents of a soft jealousy. Not the kind where he was mad at any of them for having something he didn’t, but wanting to have it alongside them. And more than that, Namjoon felt a deep sadness as he watched the soft movement of his two hyungs’ hands against their dongsaengs’ bodies.
Which was stupid. It wasn’t like they’d kicked him to the curb because they hated him and didn’t want him near. They’d all offered him a spot to sit. There had been enough room for one more, even before they’d all shuffled together (and even if that hadn’t been the case, they definitely weren’t strangers to being pressed against each other. Most of the time, none of them had any qualms about personal space when it came to each other, or even those that they worked with often, like their makeup artists who would push and pull them around to their hearts content in between filming). He had chosen himself to lay on the floor, wanting to be able to move around a bit and be on his phone without disturbing the others, but as he watched them now, that strange feeling seemed to close his throat off and make his chest hurt a bit.
It wasn’t like this was some big moment of realization. He’d known that it was something to do with how touchy they all were with each other. It was a lot of small instances that he’d absently taken note of, but for some reason, tonight it was all hitting so much harder.
He wanted to be held too. He wanted to curl up in his friends’ laps and lean against them while they pulled him close. In that moment, he wanted the effortless intimacy that he knew he had with them.
But he didn’t know how to ask for it.
He didn’t know how long he looked at them, how long he imagined himself just getting up and sitting down next to Seokjin. It wasn’t difficult, and even if his hyung jokingly complained about having to move and teased him for taking up his space, he knew that none of them would mind.
All he did was lay there and hug his plushy closer. It was his favorite, both because it was just so damn soft and because Hobi had given it to him, but pressing it against his chest and stomach did nothing to soothe the ache and hollowness he felt. It was soft and cute, it felt really nice to run his fingers over.
But it wasn’t what he wanted.