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It was a tiring day. Well to be honest, there were never really relaxing days either. It was always something or the other. An interview, a song to write, produce or brainstorm the lyrics, prepping for a comeback, dance recitals and most exhausting of all : keeping up appearances. But today; today was the worst of all. Nothing went right. It was like a Namjoon woke up on the wrong side of the bed. His dance was off, his brain was blank, his confidence down the drain, everything he touched; broke. He hated himself. He wondered how everyone put up with him. Was he a good enough leader to represent the world’s biggest influences of the generation? The only reason he was in the spotlight is cause of his proficiency in another language. And even that will not last long as other members were also learning. Soon enough, they won’t need him to translate or prompt them to answer. Most of all, they would be able to speak their mind freely without having him filter their words. Will they need him then? So what if he could rap? Others can too. So what if his lyrics are deep and meaningful? Others can too. So what if he was smart? Others are too. There was nothing to make him feel special as he realised, he was dispensable. He wasn’t unique. He would be the easiest to forget amongst all of them if should he leave. People might be sad for a bit but as soon as another song drops or another photoshoot is published, he will be forgotten. More than hating himself, he was afraid that he let everyone down. And he didn’t want to be the reason the others fell with him.
Looking at the mirror, bloodshot eyes stared back. There were no dimples, no crescent shaped eyes, no slicked back hair, no smile on the face reflected back. There was nothing worth loving or lusting after. Just a tired man with a heavy heart and troubled mind. An ordinary living, breathing person. Unremarkable. Boring. Replaceable. Namjoon’s biggest fear was that Armies loved the persona he portrayed and not the man he was. If that was true, then who was he? What truly was his purpose on this blue planet? Was his life worth anything? He felt an achingly empty void full up his tummy, making him nauseous. He struggled to breathe as his windpipes closed up around him. There was no sound surrounding him as the ringing in his ears grew louder and his vision blurred. He truly thought he was dying as everything around him zeroed in his thoughts and the room spun. He wanted an out. He desperately needed an out. He reached for Hoseok’s razor and with unsteady hands, sliced a shallow horizontal line on his forearm. Inky red blossomed onto his milky skin. Namjoon stared as the tiny red droplets formed and glided down towards his palm, following the path of gravity. The vivid visual caught Namjoon’s attention and slowly, he could breathe again. Relieve washed over him as the stinging pain made his toes curl and shiver run down his back. Namjoon was suddenly aware of every racing heartbeat and the expend and contraction of his lungs. He eyed the razor inside the sink. The stark contrast of red on white was breathtaking. It almost felt as if he would fall into a pool of red if he touched it. Then just maybe he would find peace. His fingers skimmed across the smooth surface of the blade. He lightly nibbled on his bottom lip as he contemplated his choices : another cut to completely rid him of the residual uneasiness lingering like static around his skin or endure it. Namjoon wasn’t a lot things except sane. He picked up the blade.
A sharp knock startled him and he dropped the blade onto the floor, the clattering echoing around the room. Namjoon froze. What if whoever is outside heard him? He didn’t trust himself to speak, the lump around his throat not yet truly gone. Pulling down his sleeves, he quickly kicked the blade under the bathtub and washed off the electrifying red off the cool marble sink. He nearly pulled the door off its hinges out of nervous energy. Looking up, he came face to face with the one person he was trying to avoid : Kim Seokjin. Namjoon prayed that Jin was oblivious to the turmoil festering in his heart. The man was able to read him like an open book since the very first time they met. He was playful with the younger boys but when it was just the two of them, Jin always acted like the hyung he was suppose to be. And even now, that’s exactly what he was.
“Dinner. Now.” Was all Jin said as he turned on his heels and walked towards the kitchen.
“Not hungry” Namjoon meekly replied.
“Then go wait in the bedroom. Mine, not yours.” Jin said without turning back.
Namjoon has never been able to disobey a direct order. Especially not from his hyung. Which was why he found himself staring at the insanely huge showcase filled with tiny miniatures in Kim Seokjin’s bedroom. Countless times before he had been in this room and never once did he feel as oppressed by the lilac white walls surrounding him as he did now. Realising that he was spiralling, he laid on the bed and pulled the covers up, shielding his eyes from the fluorescent lights. Underneath, all Namjoon could inhale was the essence of Kim Seokjin. Maybe because his senses were heightened, he realised that Seokjin smelled like the mossy rock he inexplicably is drawn to when he goes to the beach. A rock that can withstand the raging seas and tempestuous storms. A rock that never fails to shield a sailor caught in the fury of Mother Nature. A rock, that protects silently and without expectations. So, either Kim Seokjin smells like a rock or Kim Namjoon was delirious. Ever wise Kim Namjoon decided it was the latter.
Namjoon had no idea how much time had lapsed since he entered his hyung’s room. He even turned off the lights at one point. He felt tiredness seep deep into his bones, an ache settling underneath his muscles, like sediment in a beaker for a science experiment. A profound sense of numbness took over his soul, creeping thru every fiber of his being. Never had he felt so alone. Never had he felt like he was tethering over the edge of the abyss, nothing grounding him. But yet, he couldn’t let go. Or more like, something held on to him, tightly, unwavering, refusing to release his open hands. Groaning, Namjoon cracked open his eyes; annoyed that even in his dreams, he couldn’t find the eternal peace he was desperately craving for and realised to his dismay, that not only did he end up drooling on his hyung’s Hello Kitty plushie -I’m sorry, when the hell did this get here?- But he was also squashing it with such brute strength that it looked like the eyes were about to pop off. -Please tell me that a bloody plushie was NOT the reason I couldn’t fall into the darkness in my dreams.-
Right on cue, the door creaked open and Seokjin walked in, holding a steaming bowl of something that smelled absolutely scrumptious. Namjoon sat up on the bed, eyes downcast, unable to look at his hyung. His stomach growled, indicating he was human in need of sustenance but Namjoon, thick headed as he was, refused to give into the living part of him when he felt like a walking zombie. More importantly, he was not ready to be nagged even though he knew it was coming and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
The bed creaked under the weight of Kim Seokjin’s solid lean muscles and baby fat. Long, pale fingers tilted Namjoon’s head upwards, forcing their eyes to lock. Seokjin’s voice soft “we can do this the hard way or the easy way - you decide.”
Namjoon increasing dry mouth barely managed to crock out the words, “easy” and fell silent again.
“Good boy.” Seokjin’s praise made his heart skip a beat and another wave of nausea hit full force, but not in a bad way.
Seokjin pulled a small box from under the bedside table and opened it, revealing an assortment of ointments and bandages. It was a medical kit. Namjoon vaguely wondered how often and how many of them had Seokjin patched up over the years. Without saying a word, he pulled Namjoon’s hand gently onto his lap and rolled up his sleeves. Namjoon was thankful for the darkness of the room, safe for the soft glow from the bedside table lamp that Seokjin flicked on when he sat on the bed; for he could feel heat flush his cheeks. Tears, despite his best efforts to resist it, welled up under his eyes as he felt Seokjin’s purposeful hands clean and bandage his cut. The silence was heavy, Namjoon feeling like he had to explain himself or Seokjin would be disgusted with him for being so fucking weak. Once bandaged, Seokjin leaned down and placed light kisses on the band aids. Seokjin’s actions were not sexual in the least. They provided a sense of comfort and security that Namjoon subconsciously needed. The younger was always so resilient, carrying the entire group on his back that he rarely shared the burden that came with it.
Namjoon didn’t realise when the tears actually fell or if the half chocked half strangled noise coming from his throat actually belonging to him til he felt Seokjin’s fingers wiping the tears away. Seokjin leaned closer and kissed Namjoon under his eyes, softly shushing him. Namjoon concentrated on the heat fanning his cheeks and the solid mass resting on his arms to calm his racing heart.
“Breathe” Seokjin whispered, his hands carefully cradling the younger man’s face.
Kim Namjoon might technically be an adult, but at this moment, he was a child touch starved for affection and reassurance.
Namjoon watched the rise and fall of Seokjin’s chest and timed his breath accordingly. They stayed that way for a few minutes, or seconds, or hours. Honestly, Namjoon could care less. He nearly whined when Seokjin released his hold on him but managed to stop himself.
“Do you know why I declined when they asked me to be the leader?” He asked while blowing the soup before force feeding Namjoon.
Namjoon shook his head as he gulped down the food and tried to keep it there.
“Because I knew that this job was going to be tough and everyone needed to have someone they could lean on.” Seokjin replied, a small smile playing on his lips. Namjoon couldn’t help but reply with a quick upturn of lips as well.
Seokjin’s words eased his mind a little bit, pacifying the storm in his heart, albeit temporarily. Maybe these feelings would never go away. Maybe eventually he had to see someone to sort out the mess in his heart. He had no idea what the future holds for him or the others. Just at this moment, wrapped in the protective embrace of his hyung, his back warm from the heat radiated from the body encasing him like a cocoon; making him feel safe and protected; just for tonight - maybe he can rest easy even with the unnerving eyes of Hello Kitty staring at him. With that, Kim Namjoon closed his eyes, the sound of Kim Seokjin’s quiet breathing lulling him to sleep.