Archive of Our Own

1. Seokjin

The members have to start giving him more credit.

It’s hard as hell, to be the only single one with three couples around you. He never complains, because love is love and whatever. He never complains, because he loves them all, lives to see them happy. The make out sessions he’s run into or plainly witnessed next to somewhere around him are bearable. The couples deserve every moment they can get.

The longing, though. Before each of them becomes something, there’s the longing. The third couple is right in the middle of it.

Seokjin is not one to look at their pictures much, unless they’re official and thus they need approval before release. Sometimes, when scrolling on Weverse, he’ll come across shots taken in events and performances. He’ll look at those and remember the moments, remember what stood out the most when they happened.

Jeongguk’s eyes are a special brand of big and awed. Protect at all costs — that was Seokjin’s first thought upon seeing them, still is from time to time. Even when Jeongguk grew into them and started making decisions accordingly. Only the pictures are proof that pure, youthful innocence was ever there.

Now, though.

“Namjoonie-hyung!” Their youngest’s voice always tilts differently with those words, even when it’s not that noticeable. “Namjoonie-hyung, come help me!”

Work for them implies many things. Letting go and hiding are two of them, weirdly combined a lot of the time. Writing is more about letting go, and so they have to do it as ambiguously as possible. Namjoon keeps giving them half-masterclasses about it.

In the artist lounge, Taehyung sinks himself into the couch, leaving Jeongguk’s side.

Seokjin huffs. “Namjoonie is busy, Jeongguk-ah. Let him write in peace for a while.”

“They’re lyrics for one of my songs,” Jeongguk argues, already up. “And these ones, too. He told me to go to him whenever I need to.”

Taehyung mumbles something in his sleep. Looking at him, Seokjin and Jeongguk giggle together at the half-coherent mention of Jimin.

Two couples, perfectly established. Going strong. The third one is on its way there.

Because Jeongguk, on his way to Namjoon, reminds Seokjin of a picture he recently came across of. Not on Weverse, but in their most recent photoshoot. One of the scrapped ones, because it was too informal, too out of the concept. All of them, laughing in the middle of it, because it was impossible not to. The reason, like always, must have gotten lost somewhere.

The looks, though. It’s always the looks with them. How they get their fans crazy with fondness and almost unbidden affection.

It passes as that, at least. Seokjin is the most successful at it, because he truly has nothing of his own to hide. The mission is to help cover the others, and in this moment, he’s glad there’s no cameras around, because another shot of Jeongguk’s Namjoon gaze would end all attempts at plausible deniability.

Seokjin has spent the last bunch of years protecting those from the world — he’ll never complain about it. Taehyung’s snoring grounds the scene a bit, but there’s truly little someone can do when Jeongguk looks over Namjoon’s shoulder.

Not really over his shoulder, though. Maybe that’s the intention, but Jeongguk’s full-of-wonder eyes are fixed on Namjoon’s profile, and no description is needed. Seokjin wants to stand in front of the scene, as he always tries to do with the rest — not because it’s wrong, but because it’s private. Should be private.

It is, now, he realizes. No cameras, no unknown staff to potentially snitch on them.

Perfect, Seokjin muses, leaning back against the couch, head resting on his hands.

And lucky, because, after talking for a little while, Jeongguk starts singing the lyrics Namjoon just presented to him, melody and all. It sounds good, because of course it does. Yet again, it’s the looks that stop Seokjin in his tracks. Jeongguk’s eyes are on the sheet of paper, but Namjoon’s — Namjoon’s eyes look up and to the side, almost over his shoulder, to their youngest.

Seokjin is no stranger to inner conflict. He’s made peace with his own by now, but he knows that Namjoon is an overthinker, has been the target of it many times over the years. In this series of moments, Namjoon’s eyes glow in little crescent moons. For Jeongguk. Because of Jeongguk.

Will I ever get sick of it? Namjoon’s head tilts, going along with the lyrics. Most definitely. Not yet. And I will forever want to protect them. That’s a given.

When Jeongguk finishes, he catches Namjoon’s gaze. They stay there, trapped together, unaware of their witness, uncaring of the snores. Jeongguk’s nose scrunches in shyness, Namjoon’s dimples appear in mirth. Their smiles are for each other.

2. Taehyung

“Jeonggukkie, pining can only last for so long,” Jimin states, kissing the youngest’s temple. “And you’ve pined enough.”

“You’re in pain at this point,” Taehyung points out, smiling to himself.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “You both are not helping.”

“We are professional piners.” Shaking Jeongguk in his arms, Jimin hums. “We pined for each other for years. We know what we’re talking about.”

A nod. “We do. And you have nowhere else to go, so you have to trust us.”

“I already trust you.” It’s barely above a whisper. “And I trust him, too. I’m the problem.”

Taehyung makes a whole show of tackling both his best friends, because he can. Because they let him, and giggle alongside him. “Nobody is a problem here,” he declares, nuzzling two different cheeks. “Absolutely nobody. We don’t tolerate self-slander in this house. Your wedding with Namjoon is soon, Jeonggukkie. We have to get you ready for it.”

“Do I have to propose?” It’s a whine. Jimin coos into Taehyung’s neck. “Can’t one of you  just, you know, dress him and bring him to me at the right time?”

“Our little Jeonggukkie,” Jimin croons, rolling them on the bed until he is on top. Taehyung grabs him by the waist. “Our little, precious Jeonggukkie. Do you know I can’t wrap my head around the fact that you know what sex is? And now you’re in love with our leader!” A cackle that Taehyung can’t suppress. “I’m totally serious! He was a baby, a child. My fucking first born.”

“Our first born,” Taehyung huffs out, chest rising. He ruffles Jeongguk’s hair. “All grown up now. Your lovesick eyes make me want to puke. Me.”

Jeongguk groans. “The hypocrisy.”

More giggles. Then cackles. They roll and wrestle and tackle. They’ve done it for so long, they don’t get someone’s foot in their mouth on accident anymore, or knee someone in the crotch. Taehyung steals kisses from Jimin right at the end of it, ignoring Jeongguk’s string of complaints and Not fair’s. He knows it’s not fair. Very few things in life are, and Taehyung is going to take advantage of them all.

“The baby is crying, Taehyung-ah,” Jimin whispers against his moist lips. “We have to tend to him.”

“Not. A. Baby.” An angry huff. “I’m literally getting married soon.”

Taehyung buries his face into Jimin’s clavicle. “Our baby is getting married!”

“We haven’t told the family.” Jimin’s chest jumps. Then, small hands raise Taehyung’s head so two pairs of wide eyes can meet. “We haven’t told the groom!”

Falling into each other reminds Taehyung of falling for each other, which only makes their shared fit of laughter more exhilarating. Right until, at least, Jeongguk pushes them off the bed.

“Not. Fair!”

“We have failed!” Jimin squeals, catching Taehyung by the shoulders and clinging to him. “The baby hates us!”

Taehyung sobs. “We have to fix this. Let’s go!”

They end up halfway to the dorm living room when Yoongi yells from the kitchen that they have to get ready for a schedule in thirty minutes. Jeongguk pulls Jimin and Taehyung to get changed and go to the company to get their make up done.

At some point, they’re already on their chairs, stylists running around them. The room is collectively chatting about something, but Taehyung is not participating this time. Jimin’s voice is a highlight amongst the buzz of the conversation, but not even that can pull him from his thoughts.

He gets this way, sometimes. Too into his head, especially when he worries about someone.

Namjoon is that someone — Taehyung worries about Jeongguk all the time already. Even more in this particular situation. Has since the beginning, when a barely-out-of-teenagehood Jeongguk stuttered his way through a confession. Taehyung, slightly more out of teenagehood himself, was dealing with his own all-consuming feelings at the time.

His situation received a considerable upgrade, to say the least. But Jeongguk’s pining is still just that — pining, with increasing levels of desperation and hopelessness. Someone has to take responsibility for it. Taehyung worries Namjoon will overthink it too much and simply not do it.

Maybe there’s unfairness in all of this. The conversation gains momentum around him, but Taehyung only tilts his head at the make-up artist’s command and looks at himself in the mirror. When he manages to focus on the others’ reflections, he smiles.

His members. His family. He loves them. He loves that he loves them.

“Yah, Taehyung-ah,” Namjoon calls. “Have you thought about what you’re going to say?”

Interviews. They’re having interviews in a while. “Are we talking in English?” he asks, eyes wide. “Why didn’t someone tell me?”

“I told you!” Hoseok exclaims. “I told you three brats, but you were too busy not telling me something.”

“Are we keeping secrets now?” Yoongi grunts. “We can’t keep secrets. We have interviews where we have to pretend we get along.”

Hoseok gasps. “I’m breaking up with you.”

Taehyung can’t help but notice Jeongguk is awfully quiet. When he gets that way (sometimes), it’s because he’ll probably blurt out half of the most embarrassing thoughts in his brain if he dares to open his mouth. Jimin, closest to Taehyung, shares his look of concern. Maybe we were too careless earlier, they say with their eyes. Maybe we need to shake Namjoon out of constipation.

But how, is the thing.

Later, it’s worse. They all act for the camera, because that’s what they do. Playful, smiley, goofy. It’s not a problem, because the fans are worth it. And it kind of is, because Jimin and Taehyung are supposed to be the unbearable ones.

He’s never envied Yoongi and Hoseok for their ability to love each other in embers with quiet flames, a nuance rarely seen. But Jimin and Taehyung are loud and larger-than-life. Even before getting together for real. They are all used to it, despite the occasional eye roll and mocking complaint.

In between interviews, watching Jeongguk’s head down, Taehyung wonders what kind of lovers the youngest and Namjoon would be. Already are, despite not noticing it yet.

There’s this telling, charged gaze — Namjoon will look back towards the corner of their sitting arrangement, glancing at Jeongguk like he doesn’t expect to get caught up in it. Jimin elbows Taehyung, and that only shows that probably everyone notices, staff included.

It’s fucking heartbreaking.

Taehyung is a romantic, and fucking proud of it. He spends half his free time taking pictures and the other half looking at them. He’s captured Namjoon staring at Jeongguk like that on camera multiple times. Hoseok has, as well — he’s quietly shown it to Taehyung, Jimin and the others.

It’s not the angle. The glance after their fifth interview confirms it. Namjoon looks to the side and over his shoulder. Taehyung can’t see his expression, but he doesn’t need to. He remembers it. The longing and the conflict. Everyone is different, but their leader is special.

This needs solving. Rather quickly.

3. Yoongi

Maybe being perpetually tired — perpetually fed up — is not a punishment.

Hoseok, for sure, doesn’t think so. He’s told Yoongi as such.

“Everyone is different, hyung,” he repeats every time Yoongi complains about life and such whimsy things. “You’re allowed to roll your eyes at anything you want to.”

Well, he’s rolling his eyes at fucking Kim Namjoon. At Kim Namjoon’s eyes. And he’s not going to regret it any time soon. The man is all puppy gaze and hopeless pout. It’s so not him. And also very him, under very curated circumstances. Persona versus Self. Huh. It even plays into their concepts.

“Yoongi-hyung, you’re not helping.”

Another eye roll. “I always help. But my love life got solved ages ago. Forgive me if I’m a little rusty.”

“You and Hob-ah fought, like, a week ago.”

“And we had mind-blowing make up sex afterwards. You all heard. Do you want more details?”

Namjoon’s groan is muffled against Yoongi’s studio couch. The lighting is dim, and so is the mood. There’s a beat that needs polishing in Yoongi’s computer, but he guesses that it can wait. When their leader is having a crisis, it’s either Yoongi, Hoseok or Seokjin who run to the rescue. Being the chosen one on this occasion means commitment. Hoseok’s voice in his head reminds him that, when this shit happens, it’s all their lives on the line.

“Honestly, what do you want me to tell you?” Softer, crouching down on his chair so they can almost be at eye level. “I didn’t pine for this long. He came to me one day, kissed me and we were together the minute after. Your situation has many more variables.”

Namjoon turns until he’s on his back. His eyes are scrunched shut. “I feel like I’ll defile him.”

“You will.” A pause. “Eventually.”

“Hyung.”

There’s not much progress, after that. Yoongi listens to the rant, because when has he not.

“AND.” Namjoon is pausing. A lot. Contemplation must be tiring as hell. Yoongi won’t even try it. “When did he even grow up? He got hot, hyung. HOT.” Hands shake, hysterical, in the air. All over the place. “He was a baby. We fucking raised him! Am I exaggerating? I probably am, but fuck. FUCK.”

Just that, back and fort. A realization settling itself — it has been settling itself for quite some time now, but Yoongi is no one to tell a person how to process and cope. He understands this is different. Hell, he was the first one to point it out and try to get Namjoon to acknowledge it. It would have started affecting the group otherwise. A whole fucking journey no one was ready for.

He can’t wait to curse at another pair of lovebirds.

The beat gets finished when Namjoon stands up and decides that helping Yoongi out is a good way of forgetting about the rest of the world. And it is. They work together — by the end of it, Yoongi finally has something he can go places with. A full-fledged song will take its time from here, but they’ve started like this so many times. So, so many times. They’ve gotten stuck. They’ve left a track hanging to come pick it up later and completely transform it.

“The key is never giving up when your heart tells you not to,” one of them said, once. Neither remembers who, but they cling to it every single time.

Wondering if that applies to Namjoon’s situation is pointless — it does. Yoongi and Hoseok had their own struggles at the beginning of their relationship, struggles that are still with them. Hiding hasn’t become easier (not really), and it’s never truly their choice. Not in this unfair, unequal world. On top of all that, Namjoon and Jeongguk have to get over their own shit. Especially Namjoon. Being an spectator of all that loses its charm really quickly.

“Tomorrow there’s a photoshoot,” Namjoon reminds him when they’re leaving the company. “And then we have a meeting. Remind the other ones, okay? I’m knackered.”

A text to the group chat is enough. They’ve always done that — remind each other, because the schedule is sent to them, but they’re all still useless at it. Most of the time, at least. And so, the next day arrives, and the seven of them greet each other droopy-eyed and rusty-haired. The location isn’t nowhere near the company, and so they don’t venture outside of the styling room.

The photoshoot gives them life.

Whoever whispers conspiratorially that they don’t enjoy getting their pictures taken has never seen them in between takes. All of them together, but also individually. There’s heart eyes on all occasions, because — and this the truth, according to Jimin and Taehyung —  they’re all secretly whipped for each other and will soon have a marriage orgy. Maybe even in the middle of a photoshoot.

Today is not that day, but it gets pretty close. The hyping up, the awed whooping when one of them strikes a particularly well-achieved pose. They change into their second outfits, and that’s when the teasing begins.

Yoongi will always say he was a half-assed participant, a casual witness. Hoseok will wink at him, giggling. Whatever. A mastermind is truly a mastermind when they don’t get discovered. Until this very day, Yoongi’s actions have been perfectly hidden behind naughty maknaes. This time is no exception.

“Yah, Jeongguk-ah,” he starts, Jimin to one side and Taehyung to the other. Jeongguk, in front of the camera, barely contains a twitch of the lip. “Who dressed you like that? We don’t want drool on the floor.”

He doesn’t need to talk after that. Nor do the others — not much, at least.

There’s no actual drooling, for all of their sakes. But Namjoon’s eyes don’t stray, and he doesn’t dare to participate in the hyping and whooping. Jeongguk can’t preen much, but he does his best at it in between takes. With a particular someone.

Namjoon is great with words, Yoongi knows. Can ratify, vouch for. He’s gone to the leader on multiple occasions for advice when his lyrics got too cluttered or too tangled with nonsense. Even for praise, Namjoon is the man.

That doesn’t mean he’s not awkward at it, especially with Yoongi himself in the picture. Being a musician allows you to let go in a way, but doesn’t make your way with words universal. Jeongguk is posing and twirling and Namjoon says nothing, so Yoongi suspects all of those inner, unspeakable thoughts are going to end up in song that will never leave the vault.

But his eyes. His eyes. Wordplay is great, fantastic, perfect for conveying a message without tattooing its literal meaning on one’s face. But there’s other ways of doing that. Yoongi’s are gestures that don’t involve too much physical contact. Namjoon’s is his gaze. No matter how hard he tries to seem at ease, he will convey his true feelings.

“Do you think the managers will notice and ask him to stop?” Hoseok questions next to Yoongi, smile splitting his face.

A shake of the head. “They’re used to it.”

“Aren’t we all?” Seokjin points out, flipping his silky hair back. “That doesn’t mean seventh wheeling is any more fun.”

Yoongi shrugs. “But you’re used to it.”

Jeongguk must notice he’s being watched, because his smile goes wide and crinkly-eyed for a split second — pictures of it plague the internet, have it a signature.

Then, he’s doubling his efforts. Jimin and Taehyung whoop even more.

“I’m capturing this,” Hoseok announces, kissing Yoongi on the cheek before pulling out his phone. “So when they finally marry, we’ll have pictures to hang on their wedding.”

Yoongi sees the shot at night, curled up in bed with his boyfriend. They’ve both known Namjoon for ages now, and still are getting used to this: adoration and longing in his too deep pupils, directed at their youngest. Said youngest pretending not to notice and failing miserably.

“We have to do something about this,” he whispers to the room.

Hoseok giggles. “Not yet, hyung.”

4. Hoseok

“I can’t give Namjoonie-hyung babies!”

After comes a punched-out wail. It breaks Hoseok’s heart in a million pieces.

“He does talk about wanting kids from time to time,” Taehyung points out, “but there are many ways—”

Jeongguk whines. “Jimin-hyung, I can’t have babies!”

“I think we’ve had enough soju,” Hoseok concludes, standing up and grabbing the bottles from the table. “I’ll proceed to save the rest for another day.”

Their youngest slumps on the table, long, thick arms rattling the surface when they collide against it. Taehyung goes to stroke his hair. Hoseok, from the kitchen, wonders why they’re not laughing the situation off.

Jeongguk — this is taking a toll on him. He’s hyper aware of everything Namjoon does with him, near him. Of everything Namjoon does just in general. Hoseok knows it for sure, because the youngest won’t stop rambling about it. In their scarce free time, in between events and appointments, when they’re coming from or going to studio time. Even by text.

It’s passing from concerning to alarming. There’s a desperate urge in the air to find someone to blame, but they all know better than that. Conversations with Namjoon stray to the topic every single time, and Hoseok, at least, always gets the same answer.

“I need time.” Namjoon looked on the border of tears the last time. Hoseok only shook his head. “Really, Hob-ah. Please take care of him in the meantime.”

That’s your job, he wanted to reply but, again, it’s more complicated than that. All of them take care of Jeongguk, in one way or another. It depends on the day and the activity. Now, when the youngest is drunk in despair and soju, the other young ones coddle him while Hoseok takes away the temptation of drowning themselves into oblivion.

“We can postpone the wedding,” Jimin offers, pulling Jeongguk up by the armpits. “You’re in no condition of giving consent.”

“No!” Broken. Hoseok shivers from the kitchen bar. “No, hyung. T-that never— That never ends up well!”

Taehyung nods, still stroking long strands. “We have time. Quite some of it. It will happen, Jeonggukkie. He’ll come around.”

“I know he will. That problem is when. I want to fucking jump him.”

This time, Hoseok laughs. Jimin follows, dropping Jeongguk’s body for his own to fall to the floor. Taehyung watches them back and forth until he’s shaking with it, too. Jeongguk whines and whimpers, and they coo at him because what else can they do. They’re not Kim Namjoon. Hell, they’re not Min Yoongi or Kim Seokjin. Their medicine is laughter and physical contact, not problem-solving. Not yet, at least.

“Are you bunch drinking without me?”

Shit.

Hoseok gets up and throws his arms over Namjoon because — fuck. Jeongguk isn’t in his drowsy-drunk state. He’ll open his mouth and embarrass himself any second now. They have to get Namjoon past the common area as soon as humanly possible. The leader jerks in Hoseok’s arms, but that’s just his first instinct to physical contact, and so Hoseok sways with him while squealing in over-exaggerated joy.

“Do you want a drink, Namjoonie?” he says, pulling them both over the kitchen. “Let’s get you a drink!”

He gets the soju back out and pours it into two shot glasses. Downing them is twistedly satisfactory. Namjoon looks smiley and relaxed, dimples in full display. There’s a new mission for Hoseok: get Namjoon as tipsy as the rest of them — maybe as drunk as Jeongguk — and avoid any potential facing of problems. For today. Jeongguk doesn’t deserve the humiliation when Namjoon isn’t ready yet. Whatever that means.

“Namjoonie-hyung!” It’s Taehyung, entering the kitchen, for all their sakes. “Namjoonie-hyung, have a beer with me!”

Namjoon is already nodding. “We have tomorrow free. Let me get them.”

He gives one to Hoseok as well. Jimin is still with Jeongguk by the table, but attention can be elsewhere for now. One beer becomes two and then three, until their smiles turn into full-of-teeth grins and their words only are only half-understood. Jimin and Jeongguk join them at some point, all giggles and whispered exchanges.

The heart eyes kill it all.

Jeongguk isn’t running his mouth, which — Yes. Hoseok’s plan isn’t completely ruined. The fact that they’re all drunk is just a minor inconvenience. Namjoon is laughing with Taehyung about Yoongi’s and Seokjin’s latest fishing trip, looking at the videos in one of their phones.

Those heart eyes come from Jeongguk. They start as glances — Hoseok is nothing if not observant. Reciprocity is key to encouraging them, though. The glances start coming back a couple of moments later.

How do the rest of them manage to pretend nothing is happening can only be attributed to alcohol. It makes them shit at it, but those two are just as drunk, and so it’s a successful mess. Jeongguk’s glances turn into short stares; Namjoon’s reach that level soon after. When their eyes meet, it’s a disaster.

Again, they’re drunk. It’s a pretty lame disaster, but a disaster nonetheless.

Hoseok raises his head from his own phone, and finds the panicked eyes of one Park Jimin, going back and forth from Jeongguk to Namjoon. Those two have lost all pretense and are plainly staring at each other, barely blinking in the process. Not even Taehyung munching on some chips gets them out of it.

Someone has to do something, right?

Right.

But nobody moves.

Maybe it’s too much — to call it a disaster. It’s the alcohol making Hoseok exaggerate things, but no one is interfering, and so he texts Yoongi to tell him. Because he needs to know. For some reason. Probably an important one.

Seokjin-hyung and I are having dinner, is the answer he gets. Tell me if it gets worse.

Than this? No, for fuck’s sake. The staring contest is bad enough, even if the goal is one they all want. For Jeonggukkie to cross the distance and slot himself into Namjoon’s side — third, fourth and fifth wheel be damned. For those doe eyes to close in a kiss Hoseok has gossiped about with the rest of the members too many times.  Their collective we-are-fed-up sessions are very useful.

Instead, Namjoon’s eye twitches and both of Jeongguk’s fill with heartbreaking, barely contained tears.

Hoseok launches himself forward.

“Time for bed!” He grabs Jeongguk by the arm, attempting a smile. Barely succeeding. “Bed, everyone!”

Behind them, Taehyung groans. “We have tomorrow free! I want another whiskey.”

Hoseok turns to Jimin with pleading eyes. The issue is understood on an instant. A moment later, Taehyung is being hauled across the hallway.

Namjoon clears his throat. “Are you alright, Jeonggukkie?”

Don’t the silent tears tell you enough? It’s a scream through Hoseok’s pointed glare. He says nothing, and pulls on Jeongguk until the youngest is tucked safely in his bed, tears wiped off. Out of the room, Hoseok slumps against the door, sigh punching itself out of his body.

Years have taught him how to avoid a crisis, but he never gets fucking used to it.

“Hob-ah.” It’s choked. Hoseok opens his eyes, glare at the ready. “ Hob-ah, I’m so sorry.”

He has this weird impulse of growling. He smiles, close-lipped, instead. It’s not pleasant. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to, Namjoon-ah.”

Head down. A whisper. “I wrote a song.”

Well. “Are you going to sing it for him?”

“I’m going to record it for him.”

That’s — an improvement. Hoseok tilts his head. “Any time soon?”

“Hob-ah—”

“The kid is suffering, Namjoonie,” he grits out. So this is what anger feels like. “You hung him the stars, but you don’t want to admit it was you. I mean, I just called him a kid, but that’s out of habit, you know?”

The hallway is dark, only the light from the common area barely reaching it. Namjoon’s expression is barely visible, but the pain is radiates off him. “I know. I’m still coming to terms with it.”

“Come to terms with it faster, or lose him forever.” Another sigh. Alcohol makes him even more dramatic. “Really. I’m tired of being the voice of reason. You know hope isn’t endless — I learned that the hard way. So do something.”

Hoseok’s phone vibrates. How did it go? Yoongi has sent a selca: him smiling his cute smile, Seokjin frowning. It lifts Hoseok up a little, enough to loosen the crinkle in his forehead.

“It was weird, just before,” Namjoon points out.

Hoseok huffs. “Really? I have a whole gallery of weird, then.”

The pause aches between them. “Could you send them to me?” Namjoon scratches his nape. “I need them to give me courage.”

That night, Hoseok starts curating an album from his hard drive. Hope is useful because it’s still there.

5. Jimin

Not getting involved was the consensus. Not only in this topic, but in all the slightly related ones. Relationships are between two — all that bullshit about them affecting the rest of the group is only concerning when that possibility becomes an almost-reality. Before that, relationship stuff is dealt inside said relationship. Boundaries inside the band have always worked.

They also go to hell when someone makes Jeongguk cry. Namjoon made Jeongguk cry. Jimin is trying not to see red.

“These emotions,” he mumbles against Taehyung’s neck. “I haven’t fought with Namjoonie-hyung in so long. Why do I want to murder him?”

“If you murder him, I murder him with you.” Being in love with Taehyung is the best thing in the world. “Right?”

“Right, my love. Of course.”

It’s their leader they’re talking about. Taehyung fawns over him at every chance he gets. All of them do. Specially Jeongguk.

Jimin sighs. Jeongguk.

Being an eyewitness of the youngest’s evolution of feelings was captivating, at first. When the crush became serious an thus brand new, a secret whispered alongside giggles and mischievous glances. Both Jimin and Taehyung were the perfect partners in crime, attentively listening to Jeongguk’s every word about his favorite hyung.

“Do you think, someday—” Those words, straight out of the mouth of a Jeongguk who was still growing into his eyes, told Jimin that they were all in for the long run. “I mean, I fucking wish.”

Years later, here they are, barely having avoided a crisis. Props to Hoseok. Props to all of them. Seokjin is great at scoffing when the couples kiss too close to him, but he always reminds them — in those weird but amazing moments full of feelings — that he couldn’t be happier. That he wouldn’t have it any other way. Hiding is a just nuisance at this point, as fucked up as that sounds.

Taehyung envelops Jimin with both his arms and legs. Jimin clings to him by the shoulders.

“What do we do?”

They say it at the same time. There’s no energy to giggle at it.

“We can go and yell at him, at least.” Taehyung’s words are still slurred from the alcohol. “It will solve nothing, though.”

Jimin hums. “Tempting. But I want to sleep.”

They sleep the alcohol away and wake up to eerie silence. After checking the time, Jimin frowns. This is no time for eerie silence, especially not in a free day. He shakes Taehyung awake (no slow kisses or morning sex in this opportunity). His boyfriend looks up at him, smiles sleepily.

“Should we go check up on Jeonggukkie?” he asks, rubbing his eyes awake. “Or should we let him sleep?”

“I think everyone is sleeping,” Jimin says, getting up and covering a yawn with his hand. “Do you want to go check?”

They end up opening every door on the hallway, if only slightly, and don’t have the heart to wake up anyone until they reach Jeongguk’s room. There, they throw themselves at the bed. Curling around a frightened body is always a must.

“I’m hungover,” comes a voice from underneath the duvet. “And it’s a free day. Aren’t you two supposed to be having loud, annoying sex?”

“We don’t want to be insensitive with the single and lonely,” Taehyung informs, biting what must be Jeongguk’s shoulder. “But if you really want to—”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “How are you feeling, Jeonggukkie?”

Barely above a whisper. “I want him— I want him to look at me like that all the time.”

Not cooing is impossible, and so they do. When they manage to get Jeongguk on top of the duvet, they make him go take a shower. Jimin goes for one as well, pulling Taehyung with him inside the stall. The not wanting to be insensitive towards the single and lonely seems to have become a value of theirs, because they keep their hands to themselves until they meet Jeongguk in the living room.

Seokjin appears behind them at some point. “We should have a staycation.”

“Yes!” Jeongguk starts jumping around. “We can—”

It’s a lot of rambling, but they all take mental notes of the requests. Yoongi and Hoseok make an appearance soon after, droopy-eyed but in a good mood, and so they all wait for Namjoon to come out and finish planning what they’ll do during the day.

“Good morning,” greets their leader from the kitchen, and they all turn from the TV to look at him. “My friends called a while ago and—”

“We’re having a staycation,” Yoongi declares, going to the kitchen himself, “and you’re going to be here with us. Bonding time, or whatever. We need our leader for that.”

Namjoon doesn’t put on much of a fight. Jimin, perched on Taehyung’s lap, side-eyes Jeongguk.

Their youngest is standing right in the middle of the living room, gaze fixed on Namjoon. Those doe eyes make Jimin want to go and punch the cabinet next to Namjoon’s head. It’s not healthy. It’s not them.

“We have to do something,” Taehyung whispers in Jimin’s ear. “Really.”

Jimin nods. “The staycation is for the seven of us, though. I don’t know if Hobi-hyung has told Yoongi-hyung or Jin-hyung anything, but—”

“Yah, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi calls. “Do you want coffee? Jeongguk-ah, do you?”

The first activity is to watch a movie. They decide on one of their own, because egos do get bigger after some time. With no cameras around, they get into the couples arrangement — Jimin where he already is, on Taehyung’s lap (or slotted against his side), and Yoongi in between Hoseok’s legs on the floor or on the other end of the big couch.

The couples end up both on the couch with Seokjin between them. Jeongguk sits below Yoongi and Hoseok, sweater paws flapping in the air in anticipation. Namjoon ends up on the other side, by Taehyung and Jimin, body slightly rigid.

Jimin wants to slap him on the head. Again, not healthy.

“Press play, hyung!” Jeongguk prompts. Jimin raises the remote control and does so. “I love this one!”

For a while, it’s the typical way of them watching their own movie: half-flustered, half-embarrassed, and a lot of barely-concealed pride. Jabs at the one currently on screen and half-assed comments about how they’re so much more relaxed now. Without cameras, they can point out memories the fans don’t know about, and laugh or scoff at them.

“Ah, that’s around the time Jeonggukkie was considering getting his first tattoo,” Hoseok reminds them, giggling. “Was it worth the crisis?”

Jeongguk is already nodding. “It was. And all the other ones that followed, too.”

“What do you want to get next?” Taehyung asks, eyes not leaving the screen.

There’s a pause in the conversation, after that, where they let Jeongguk consider. Jimin is avoiding looking at the youngest, because he might be overbearing most of the time, but he can recognize when someone needs space. Jeongguk is a man — they all are learning to treat him like one.

When the answer still doesn’t come, though, he caves in. And it’s devastating.

The youngest is slumped back against the couch, head grazing Hoseok’s folded thighs. Neck turned to the side, his eyes are fixed on Namjoon, who’s body hasn’t loosened up. Jimin frowns.

There’s no sadness in that gaze, no hopelessness. The movie is portraying Namjoon and his words, and so Jeongguk’s eyes are tender, the fucking definition of loving.

Seokjin accommodates himself, and he and Jimin share a concerned look. The people on the couch all share a concerned look. Should we be concerned in the first place? They’ll eventually come around — they have to. Jimin guesses their worry is justified, as they are seven in one, but maybe they should do something, even if it just entails a little push in the right direction.

He looks back at Jeongguk. They all always talk about how their youngest grew into his eyes, but they’ve never pointed out what those eyes would be used for. For looking at world with wonder, still — for looking at Namjoon with wonder, as well. And for that wonder to morph into something they all are proud of, something that makes Jimin cling to Taehyung’s neck and never want to let go.

Namjoon is swaying to the movie’s music. Jeongguk’s eyes, crinkly and soft, follow every move. Idiots in love. They can all agree on that, and on the fact that yeah, they definitely need to do something. Soon.

6. Namjoon

Writing about love is easy. Namjoon will say that, now that he’s in love himself. And — Shit. Being in love.

 Being in love is fucking hard as hell.

To imagine scenarios, even ones that include heartbreak, pales in comparison to actually being the potential cause of one. Namjoon doesn’t believe himself a coward, but his actions speak otherwise. At least in this situation. Jeongguk is every star in the night sky, and Namjoon still doesn’t dare to look up.

“You’re messing with Jeongguk at this point,” Seokjin states, gaze final.

Namjoon scoffs. “I haven’t done anything to suggest I like him.”

“That kid learned to avoid stupidity from me,” Yoongi argues. “And you do a lot of stuff. Being dense about it is just another thing.”

The restaurant around them is clueless of their presence, a fit they manage more easily now. Finding a place like this was hard, but now they’re loyal costumers. Jeongguk was the one to introduce it to them, and the memory makes Namjoon bury his face in his hands, pork untouched in front of him.

“Did Hob-ah send you that album he was curating for you?” Yoongi asks, chewing. “He spent half the night and the whole afternoon going through his hard drive. It has to be useful for something.”

Seokjin hums. “The kids are talking about a wedding.”

A snap of the neck. Namjoon’s head reels. “A what?”

“It’s true,” Yoongi says. “Heard them after the meeting the other day. They were teasing Jeonggukie about it.”

Heartbreak lyrics aren’t strange to Namjoon. He’s just had to be a little more imaginative, a little more permissive of suspension of disbelief about himself. Being aware of Jeongguk’s crush was one thing, but the word wedding flashes in his mind to raise every single alarm there can possibly be.

“Wedding?” Punched out. “Who is he marrying?”

Seokjin chokes with laughter, Yoongi rolling his eyes alongside it.

“Who—”

“You need to look at Hob-ah’s album now,” Yoongi prompts, “to discover who Jeongguk is marrying. I’m fucking tired of this shit.”

Getting out his phone is painful. Everything hurts. He wants a pen in his hand and a notebook on the table, but he’ll get his guts out later. Opening Hoseok’s contact for the link takes him ages — he’s not thinking.

“Hurry up,” Seokjin says, reaching across the table for Namjoon’s dish. “We have promotions again soon. We have to establish a plan for the change in dynamics. This has to be solved.”

Me? Is Namjoon’s first thought upon seeing the pictures, and he’s glad for it. Why didn’t he tell me anything? Hoseok was clear about the curated album in his last text: you asked for it, now DO SOMETHING. It’s obvious some pictures are professionally taken, but most of them are from the no-cameras-around moments, from the behind the scenes that never get posted.

Jeongguk’s eyes shine with that starlight. Namjoon just dared to glance for the first time.

They progress over the years, the pictures. They mute the noise around Namjoon and transport him to each and every moment lived in the shots. Melodies strung together during those times come back to him, make him question everything even more.

Looking up. Looking down. To one side, or the other. Jeongguk’s eyes on him in this way that Namjoon always forgets is possible — the reminder makes his head spin and his thoughts disappear. They’ll be songs later. Now, they’re regret.

“Ah, finally.” Yoongi swallows. “A realization.”

Seokjin claps three exact times. “I want to be best man.”

A teenager Jeongguk made Namjoon feel full of responsibility and duty. A man Jeongguk morphed that into what-the-fuck-why-is-he-hot and oh-no-I-am-in-love. Doe eyes tell him the same thing in those pictures, the face they belong to sharpening with every swipe of the screen. Then it’s Namjoon looking back when those eyes stray elsewhere, and the pain is everywhere — as all-consuming, fucking demanding to go away.

He wonders, briefly, when it all started. If, since those thoughts morphed, he ever looked at Jeongguk in any other way.

Probably. Humans are full of nuance, even if we don’t realize it. What he’s sure of, though, is that these are his favorite kind of stares. Jeongguk is his favorite person.

“Should I go talk to him?”

“This is so bizarre,” Yoongi notes. “The realization happened in a restaurant when Jeonggukie isn’t even with us.”

“Let them be, Yoongi-yah,” Seokjin argues. “Young, idiot love is what we live for, remember?”

Namjoon starts eating, suddenly starving. He has to finish, so he can go sweep Jeongguk off his feet.

7. Jeongguk

Sometimes, links make Jeongguk cry. Especially the ones Hoseok sends him, because they’re usually pictures he wasn’t even aware were taken. Of him, but especially of the others.

“Namjoonie-hyung,” he sighs into the vastness of his room, phone pressed tightly against his chest.

As always, nothing happens. Jeongguk’s call is never answered.

And then it is.

The door bursts open, choked exclamations coming from somewhere beyond it. Their source is obscured by the tall figure passing the threshold and slumping on top of Jeongguk.

“I am here,” Namjoon says, setting Jeongguk’s body on fire, “to sweep you off your feet.”

A combustion. It’s glorious, long-awaited. Letting it be is everything.

Namjoon is looking down at him. Tears fill Jeongguk’s eyes again because this is it — this is the fucking pictures. They’re not flukes, they’re not moments out of context Hoseok sent him to console him a little. Those are Namjoon’s eyes, glittering in the darkness, barely illuminated by the light coming from the hallway.

“Namjoonie-hyung,” he whispers, and it resonates against a wobbly smile this time.

A hum. “Will you let me?”

The grabby hands are confirmation enough. There’s murmuring coming from the outside, but they leave it outside the bubble. This is a dream. Namjoon’s head buries itself in Jeongguk’s neck. Definitely a dream.

And then a nightmare, because anger starts boiling in his chest.

“How dare you—” Shaky. This is not the time. “I’ve been waiting for years. Do you think is it going to be that simple?” What the fuck are you doing, Jeon Jeongguk. “Hyung, I’m serious! We have to talk about this.”

If he is being the rational one, something is wrong with the universe. Namjoon clings to him harder, stutters desperately against his clavicle. Jeongguk doesn’t understand a word, and so he pushes against a firm, warm chest.

“Hyung,” he says, cupping wet cheeks, “listen to me.”

The urge of unbidden screaming is halfway up his throat. In sheer joy, in vicious rage — he doesn’t know, and thus he swallows it down.

“I’m so sorry, Jeongguk-ah.” Broken. Jeongguk’s ribs crack. “I want to say so many things.”

A gulp. “Are you drunk?”

The lack of light doesn’t stop the tears from rolling. Jeongguk wipes them off. “No, I’m not!” Namjoon is shaking. Please, don’t be upset. And also, fuck you. “I only went to have dinner with Jin-hyung and Yoongi-hyung. A beer at the end. Nothing more.”

“Okay.” Jeongguk nods to clear his head. “Okay.” A pause. The murmuring outside intensifies. “Not today, okay? You can’t come to me like this and expect everything to be fine.”

There’s defeat in the glimmer of Namjoon’s eyes, barely visible but there. Jeongguk has the impulse the lean up and kiss him. Suppressing it is hell — he’s already burning anyways.

“Jeongguk-ah,” Namjoon whispers, and it’s reverence itself, “I’ll do whatever you asked me to.” Another pause. “Within reason.”

The chuckle stills the air around them. It allows Jeongguk to breathe a little easier. “Just lay down with me.”

Before that can be achieved, Namjoon goes to close the door. The murmuring stays out, making Jeongguk giggle a little. The wedding questions are going to swarm in soon, and he can’t wait for them.

Arranging themselves in Jeongguk’s bed is easy because of years of practice. Teenager Jeongguk sought out sleeping with all his hyungs as much as possible, and Namjoon was never an exception, even if it was different with him. No cuddling, because you have to respect boundaries, but a lot of conversation. Namjoon to the wall and Jeongguk on the edge of the bed, the warmth was enough to lull them to sleep.

Now, Namjoon opens his arms. Tentative, in this confusing, undecided darkness. Hopeful, Jeongguk is sure. Having them envelop him is always a pleasure, and now it’s also catharsis. They don’t say anything. They barely breathe. It’s heat and skin and the ruffling of souls through fabric.

“Namjoonie-hyung,” Jeongguk says against that warm, firm chest, “I heard you wrote me a song.”

A choked off sound. Then, “I did.”

“And that you’re going to record it for me.”

“Did Hoseok-ah snitch on me?”

A giggle. “I wasn’t asleep the other day. I overheard you two talking outside my room.”

“Shit.” The pause this time is light. Smug. “Do you want me to record it for you?”

“Yeah.”

A breath in, a breath out. Jeongguk nuzzles into the rising of Namjoon’s chest. “Then I will. Just for you, though.”

“Just for me.” Preening feels so good. “Just for me!”

He props himself on his hands, looking down. The light filtering through the window blinds is enough to see Namjoon has his eyes closed. The impulse of kissing him is right there. Still, not the time. It’s petty as hell, but Namjoon can suffer a little longer. It’s only fair.

When they decide on going to sleep, Jeongguk rolls off Namjoon’s body and faces his room. It doesn’t feel as big, as lonely. Namjoon turns in the same direction, leaving the little distance between them to stare. Jeongguk feels it in the back of his neck, the gaze. The power it carries, the decision. Hoseok’s pictures are back at the front of his mind, reminding him that it’s all true, that it’s happening now.

Namjoon is looking at him that way. That indescribable way that makes Jeongguk’s heart burst with triumph and the urge to scream from any rooftop available that he’s in love.

A picture is nice. Looking back that way is even nicer. This, though. This. Jeongguk knows it’s more, and can’t wait to have it.

Waking up tangled together is a first. Whoever started it, thank you. It will go down in history.

“Jeongguk-ah.” Raspy. Deep. “Jeongguk-ah, we have to go.”

A schedule. We have a schedule today. That’s always a double-edged sword, because Jeongguk never has the energy to start his day right until the first activity is calling for him. How he manages to get out of bed and have his makeup done and his clothes on him — that’s almost always achieved with the help of third parties. Hm. Today will be one of those occasions.

“I don’t want to get up,” Against a pillow. A chuckle behind him makes him turn on the bed until he’s facing a puffy, out-of-his-dreams face. “Do you?”

“We have to.”

“We also have to talk.”

There’s a groan stuck on Namjoon’s throat that Jeongguk can barely hear, but it achieves its purpose. He gets up on his forearms, and squints at the defused light entering through the blinds.

“We can be quick,” he offers, tilting his head. “Or we can forget this happened, and I’ll never talk to you again.”

Drama is not usually his cup of tea, but he’s tired of it all. He still feels too small on the inside for his big body, but he’s not going to let anyone else make him feel that way. None of the members would do it on purpose, he knows — that’s not the point. Mistakes go a long way when they happen between two people who love each other very much. There haven’t been any outright confessions as of yet, but Namjoon and Jeongguk have loved each other in many ways for a long time. Adding another layer today depends on the leader’s answer.

A clearing of the throat. “We can be quick.” A charged pause. A exhale. “Jeongguk-ah, I’m in love with you.”

Aren’t you sorry that you didn’t tell me sooner? Jeongguk falls back down on the bed, air punched out of his lungs with a single swing. He’s looking up but he’s not seeing, not really — trying to process is too much already. The duvet on top of him is barely a weight, and so it’s not grounding.

He reaches to the side. A big, heavy hand envelops his fingers. The air comes back.

“I’m in love with you, too,” he grits out. Tightens his grip until the surface of the Earth feels closer. “Glad we’ve established that.”

There’s no more words in the moments that follow. Silence envelops them in a cocoon that pushes them together with every passing second, and Jeongguk lets it. Fuck it.

Clashing together is the climax of the movie. The shot of shots, and it’s a pity Hoseok nor Taehyung are there to capture it. Jeongguk pulls Namjoon in by the t-shirt. Their lips slot together with horrible precision, but they make it work. They always make it work, let it be some verses or a melody or a whole fucking song. This is going to be song. I’m going to write a song about this. It’s a certainty inside a dream that’s becoming reality and they’re floating and they’re on fire in the middle of the sky—

“Jeongguk-ah.” Pleading. The beginning of another kiss. “Jeongguk-ah.”

Every slide of their tongues together makes Jeongguk question his sanity. Again, it’s a day for drama. Namjoon grabs him by the waist until he has a lap full of a squirming Jeongguk, and the collision is a daydream. Who the fuck cares. It’s also happening. The wet heat of their mouths moving together, pulling gasps and whimpers and groans is all worth it.

“Yah, Namjoon-ah.” Seokjin’s voice is muffled through the door. “We’re gonna be late!”

A wet sound emerges from their mouths separating. Jeongguk smiles to the world around him, to the universe inside Namjoon.

“I’m hard,” he whispers, ecstatic. “Hyung, I’m hard.”

When he opens his eyes, Namjoon’s cheeks are blazing. “Me too.”

“Namjoonie-hyung, we had a whole plan already!” whines Jimin, voice muffled as well. “But I’m glad you came into your senses!”

“We’re all glad!” That’s Taehyung. Jeongguk buries his face in Namjoon’s neck. “Now we can truly have an orgy!”

There’s grunting, after that. And playful laughter. Namjoon’s chest rises with it. Jeongguk wants to squeal.

Somehow, they disentangle their bodies. Sheepish smiles accompany the process, and kisses. Tons of them. An infinite amount. Namjoon strokes Jeongguk’s hair and his cheeks and his nape and his waist. Their eyes are glued together, barely bothering to blink. Changing into comfy-but-enough-for-the-outside clothes has never been such an experience.

Maybe the fact that they can’t stop smiling at each other is some sort of secret message: they should just pretend they have a cold and stay in bed all day.

“Not a chance,” Namjoon argues, halfway through a hoodie. “We are professional.”

“Professionals,” Jeongguk groans. “You raised us too well.”

“I raised you!” Seokjin again, followed by more laughter. “I raised all of you brats! Now stop sucking face and get out. We have places to be and hearts to conquer.”

Namjoon circles Jeongguk’s waist with his arms, tilts his head down slightly until their noses nuzzle together. “You smile like a bunny.”

Jeongguk’s grin only grows. “You’ve said that a million times.”

A sigh. “Do you really want me to record that song for you?”

A peck, lingering. “Please.”

“I can’t promise it’s any good—”

“All your song are good.”

“— but it’s about you, so I’ll give it a chance.”

The stares that follow also deserve to be captured. In a picture. In film. Whichever, as long as Jeongguk can look back at it and remember how it all started.

“So?” Jimin asks. “Who gets to be best man?”

Another free day somehow means another staycation, probably because they’re all knackered after days of recording. The new couples arrangement in the living room makes up for it, though: Namjoon and Jeongguk cuddling on the floor prompted the question.

“We’re an unconventional bunch,” Namjoon points out, rubbing his and Jeongguk’s cheeks together. “So we should have an unconventional wedding.”

Taehyung cheers, arms up. “We’re all best men!”

“I’m not participating in any orgies,” Seokjin warns. “I have no time for carnal pursuits.”

“My hard drive is a gold mine.” Hoseok giggles, carding fingers through Yoongi’s hair. “And this hyung is a catch.”

“Thank you,” Jeongguk says to the the five of them. Their smiles are worth it. “Really. Someone had to get this hyung out of his head.”

Yoongi huffs. “I take all the credit.”

“I paid for that dinner!” Seokjin yells.

“We should hang one of those pictures,” Jimin proposes, getting his phone out. “Like, in a very visible place. The fans love them.”

Namjoon’s nod is bliss against Jeongguk’s skin. “We should.”

The movie after that puts ideas inside Jeongguk’s head, memories that push him to create more memories. More pictures of Namjoon looking at him, of him looking at Namjoon. Everybody knows, in one way or another. Impossible for them not to, with gazes like those.