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It was too quiet in the dark of his room. Namjoon was lying on his back in the middle of his bed, staring at the ceiling. All he could hear was the ticking of a watch somewhere, maybe on the top of his dresser. His blanket was pulled up to his shoulders, arms tucked underneath the fabric, creating a cocoon of warmth.
All conditions were perfect but he still couldn’t sleep.
Namjoon let out a heavy sigh as he rolled onto his side, back to the door, and silently begged for sleep to come. It didn’t come.
What felt like hours later (but was likely only 10 to 15 minutes), he could hear the front door opening and a peal of giggles running through the house. They were quickly shushed, followed by a loud thump on the wall, then a harshly whispered, “Oops, sorry!” that only brought forth more giggles, this time from both parties.
Jimin and Taehyung were home.
After several more minutes of giggles and bumps on the walls, hushed whispers between the two, Namjoon could hear a faucet running, then Jimin instructing Taehyung to “Drink this entire glass, Tae, I’m so serious.” There were grumbles of disagreement before Jimin must have won the argument. It wasn’t long before Namjoon could hear their footsteps coming down the hall that lead to the bedrooms.
The door to their bedroom creaked open as Taehyung slowly opened it. Namjoon rolled over til he was on his other side, facing the door now, and saw Taehyung’s head peeking into the room.
“Oh, good, you’re awake!” Taehyung grinned widely as he walked in, closing the door in a way that was probably meant to be gentle.
Namjoon hummed, eyes drifting closed again. “Did you have fun?”
Taehyung giggled softly, said, “Yeah,” as he moved around the room, gathering his pajamas in the dark. Namjoon could picture the sleep shirt and pants he knew Taehyung was putting on; the fake Gucci tee shirt, the blue flannel pants. Taehyung, while unpredictable in most aspects, was also, somehow, a creature of habit, a quirk Namjoon was quite endeared by.
Which is why it was so unexpected when Namjoon felt his blanket being pulled up (ruining his cocoon of warmth), followed by his roommates body sliding into bed next to him. His eyes flew open only to be met with Taehyung’s face mere inches from his. He jerked back in surprise.
“Taehyung?”
Namjoon could just make out the soft pout on the other’s lips. “Can I sleep here tonight?” Namjoon could already feel Taehyung’s arm settling over his waist as he made himself more comfortable, his feet knocking against Namjoon’s under the blanket. “Hyung, I wanna cuddle.”
It was like his brain was moving too slowly to catch up with what was happening in real time. Namjoon couldn’t find the words he wanted to say. Something about why, or why him, or did something happen at the bar? What he finally settled on was a weak, “Jimin?”
Taehyung groaned, scooting closer to Namjoon and winding his arm more tightly around the older’s torso. “Don’t wan’ Jimin.”
That was a first.
“I – okay,” he said lamely.
Taehyung grinned again, and Namjoon couldn’t even blink before a sloppy, wet kiss was smacked into the fat of his cheek. Taehyung pulled back just far enough to look him in the eye and say, “Thank you, Joonie,” before leaning back into Namjoon’s space (not that he’d ever left Namjoon’s space to begin with) and burying his face into the older man’s chest.
And though Taehyung’s hair tickled his chin all night, Namjoon hadn’t slept so well in months.
When Namjoon woke the next morning it took entirely too much effort to extricate himself from Taehyung’s grasp. During the night, the other had slung a leg over Namjoon’s thighs, pulling him almost impossibly closer. Half his torso was draped over Namjoon’s, a fist tightly clenching the cotton of Namjoon’s sleep shirt. But once the herculean feat was conquered he stood, stretched, and meandered to the kitchen, where he found Jimin.
Jimin, who looked entirely too cheery to be up this early after a night out. He always drank like a monster but never faced any repercussions for it.
Namjoon mumbled a hello and sat at the table, resting his head in his palm.
“Sleep well, hyung?” Jimin asked with a barely concealed grin as he moved around the kitchen. Namjoon watched lazily as Jimin moved, gathering pans and assorted ingredients from the fridge.
“I did, but I’m still tired.”
Jimin hummed absentmindedly and stirred whatever it was he had. “Taehyungie didn’t keep you up?”
“Not really.” Namjoon paused, chose his words carefully. “He passed out almost as soon as he got in bed.” His gaze shifted to the tabletop. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like he couldn’t tell Jimin about Taehyung crawling into bed with him specifically. He knew the nature of Taehyung’s friendship with Jimin, knew they slept in the same bed often, even if just for a quick nap. But Namjoon didn’t do things like that, not really. He’d never been very tactile and being close friends with not just one or two but six other men who did like to snuggle sometimes resulted in Namjoon having to just suck it up and go along with the cuddle piles he’d get dragged into. Though it wasn’t necessarily like that with Taehyung – the younger boy did seek Namjoon out for physical affection, but it never felt so suffocating when it was him. Namjoon wasn’t quite sure what that meant yet.
It wasn’t much longer til Taehyung left the room, his hair looking extraordinarily sleep ruffled. He shuffled through the kitchen til he reached Jimin, gluing himself to the man’s side. Jimin moved his spatula to his other hand to avoid elbowing Taehyung as he flipped an egg. His newly free hand ran through Taehyung’s hair, not doing much to tame it, but Taehyung accepted the affection with his usual enthusiasm, wiggling his shoulders as he preened under the attention.
“Can you make some toast for me, Taehyung-ah?”
Taehyung wordlessly slide to the toaster, picking up the bread along the way. Once done with this small task, he sat next to Namjoon at the table. He grinned when they made eye contact and Namjoon grinned back.
In all the years Taehyung and Namjoon had been roommates Taehyung had been… for lack of better word, unpredictable. Namjoon remembers when they had first roomed together in college, complete strangers, and Taehyung had greeted him with a hug so warm, one that should’ve been reserved for somebody he’d known for years and not seen in months. Namjoon had awkwardly patted Taehyung on the back before being released, but Taehyung wasn’t phased by the lackluster greeting.
Namjoon quickly learned that he should never assume what his roommate was going to be up to. If anything, Namjoon could safely assume Taehyung would never actually be working on his school work. Some days he’d be playing video games or watching TV, but other days he’d be painting, or playing saxophone, or sometimes he’d even be hunched over on his knees, cutting shapes out of old cereal boxes, rolls of tape or a stapler beside him as he worked.
And now, graduated from college and working in their Big Kid Jobs but still living together, Namjoon doesn’t really bat an eyelash at Taehyung’s antics.
They were sitting in the living room, Namjoon scrolling on his phone and Taehyung watching TV, when the lights flickered, then went out with a click. The TV screen went dark and the only sound was the faint buzzing left behind in the absence of sound.
It was only a second before Taehyung theatrically slumped to the side, hand thrown dramatically over his forehead as if he were a damsel in distress.
“Oh, woe is me,” he sighed.
Namjoon hummed, eyes lifting from his phone screen to glance at Taehyung quickly where he lie on the other end of the couch, taking in the way his back was draped over the arm. He paid no mind, eyes drifting back to his phone merely a nanosecond later.
Taehyung let out another long, dramatic sigh.
At that point Jimin shuffled out of his room, looking confusedly at his two roommates. He saw Taehyung and rushed to his side, kneeling in front of Taehyung. “Oh, fair maiden, whatever is wrong?”
“I have grown weak!” Taehyung cried. “Mine eyes grow dim and foggy, I fear I have gone blind.”
Jimin gasped, a hand shooting up to cover his mouth. “No! The horror!”
“Yes,” Taehyung slumped down further, his legs straightening out so he was lying horizontally and his feet landed heavily in Namjoon’s lap. Namjoon’s only response was to drop a hand to Taehyung’s ankle and rub comfortingly.
This immediately proved to be a mistake; but how was Namjoon to know Jimin and Taehyung would interpret Namjoon’s touch as him agreeing to participate? Jimin made eye contact with Namjoon and tilted his head towards Taehyung, who was peeking at Namjoon from the corner of his eye.
“However will we cure you?” Namjoon offers weakly. His phone dropped to his lap as he gave in to the charade.
“There is only one cure, I fear,” Jimin said. His voice was somber and he and Taehyung made eye contact, faces communicating something that appeared to make perfect sense to the two, but confused Namjoon.
“Oh?” Taehyung asked, foot wiggling slightly in Namjoon’s hold. “Do tell, kind sir.”
As if delivering this news would cause him great sorrow, Jimin took a deep, heavy breath. He then looked at Namjoon. “The village scholar must bestow upon our fair maiden a kiss.”
Namjoon stilled. They had to be joking. “What?” He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about kissing Taehyung. Especially not in the days following his slobbery cheek kiss. But whereas that kiss could easily be written off as the drunken actions of his affectionate roommate, this was different. They were both sober. Taehyung just doing a silly, improvisational roleplay and asking Namjoon to kiss him (Namjoon remembered, in the back of his mind, that the first rule of improv was “Yes, and.” Yes, Taehyung, I will kiss you – but what’s the and here?). Taehyung, his beautiful roommate who he maybe already had been thinking he might want to kiss.
Totally different.
The two nodded. “I have heard of this,” Taehyung supplied. The twinkle that had been in his eye was one Namjoon had long since associated with mischief. “For your lips will impart the wisdom my eyes and brain need in order to heal my poor, dysfunctional eyes.”
“My lips…” Namjoon repeated. “Will tell your brain how to fix your eyes?”
“That’s exactly how it works,” Taehyung said at the same time Jimin said, “It’s kind of like Sleeping Beauty.”
“Those aren’t the rules in Sleeping Beauty at all,” Namjoon fired back.
Then, there was silence.
Namjoon looked at Jimin. Jimin looked back.
Namjoon looked at Taehyung. Taehyung smiled, wide and boxy. He did a full body shimmy.
“Fine.”
Namjoon leaned towards Taehyung only for the younger to sigh. “You need to get up if you’re gonna do this.”
“I don’t have to do anything; this is your game, not mine.”
“Namjoon-hyung, I’m a weak maiden. I’m blind. I can’t be the one moving.”
Namjoon vowed to never play along again. His phone fell to the couch cushion as he stood and moved to kneel in front of Taehyung. Jimin scooched out of the way, still on his knees. Taehyung resumed his role as a – well, Namjoon wasn’t entirely sure what Taehyung is supposed to be, but he was doing it again. As he braced himself, Namjoon heard Taehyung whine.
“Hyung. Ppo-ppo.”
Before he could think about it too much again, Namjoon leaned in and kissed Taehyung. It was just a peck, like Taehyung had asked for, but at the same time it was not just a peck. Taehyung’s lips were soft against his and Namjoon had to pull away before he was tempted to do something stupid like try to deepen the kiss.
He sat back on his heels, eyes wide as he stared at Taehyung whose eyes were equally wide.
There was a click in the distance and Namjoon heard an unknown electronic beep in the distance just before the lights flickered back on. Namjoon’s heart beat wildly in his chest and he was absolutely sure the other two could hear each thump.
“I, uh, I have to go,” he stuttered, getting up and walking down the hall to his room. As he closed the door behind himself, his hand touched his bottom lip.
“What the fuck,” he whispered.
Weekly roommate movie night was an event that everyone in the house typically looked forward to. But Namjoon had dreaded that Friday night for two reasons.
The first reason being that it was Jimin’s turn to pick the movie. And for his last two turns, both Taehyung and Namjoon had overruled his pick. Jimin had pouted all throughout his last turn as he’d been forced to settle for his fourth choice and had let them both be aware that during his next turn he would not (even though he’d spoken the words aloud, Namjoon got the distinct impression that he was supposed to interpret the word as being in all caps, bolded, and triple underlined) let them bully him out of his first pick again. He just knew Jimin had used the time between his turns researching the most horrid, creepiest movie he could find.
And the second reason, which was maybe a little bit scarier, was his previous kiss with Taehyung. The cheek kiss had jump started his thoughts but the impromptu improvised kiss had really kicked them into high gear. Why had Namjoon not noticed before the way his tummy clenched when Taehyung giggled? Had he been blind to the beauty of his hands? Was he fucking stupid? Because these, and many more, were the only thoughts on his mind in the aftermath of their second kiss. But had he said any of this to Taehyung? No.
Jimin called Taehyung and Namjoon into the living room and when they arrived, snacks in hand, he stood in the middle of the room, grinning in a self-satisfied way with his hands behind his back.
Namjoon gulped.
“You two,” he pointed at them, “have vetoed my picks on my last few turns and I’m sick of it.”
“Jimin,” Taehyung started slowly. “I know you’re upset, but I just-“
“Ah,” Jimin said, holding up a hand. “I don’t wanna hear it. Sit.” He gestured towards the couch and his prisoners meekly followed his orders. “Good. I’m not telling you what we’re watching this week, because I don’t want to hear any whining. Understood?”
They nodded and he pressed play.
If you were to ask Namjoon how Jimin found this movie, he would not be able to give you an answer. It was the worst kind of supernatural horror Namjoon had ever seen. He knew, logically, that what he was seeing unfold could never happen in real life. But did that make it any less scary? No. At the start of the movie, Namjoon was in the middle seat of the couch, but 20 minutes in he felt a tug at his sleeve. He jumped at the pull and the cold fingers that pressed into his arm, and when he turned he was met with Taehyung’s frowning face.
“Can we switch seats, please? I don’t wanna sit on the outside.” Namjoon didn’t really want to sit on the outside either, but as the oldest roommate, he felt it was his duty to protect the other two.
“Sure, Taehyung.”
Taehyung smiled, relieved. “Thank you!” He and Namjoon wiggled and scooted on the couch, earning a sharp look from Jimin, before they settled into their new seats. They watched the rest of the movie with Taehyung’s head resting against Namjoon’s shoulder and his hands wrapped around his arm. With each jump scare, Taehyung’s hands gripped Namjoon’s arms tighter, but he didn’t mind all that much.
Lying in the dark in his room that night was unsettling. Scenes from the movie they’d just watched kept replaying in his mind and no matter what thoughts Namjoon tried to distract himself with, they just wouldn’t leave him alone. So it was no surprise, really, that he screeched when he felt a light brush of fingertips on the back of his hand.
“It’s just me!” Taehyung said, sitting beside Namjoon in bed and placing a hand firmly on his chest. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.
“Jesus,” Namjoon breathed. He scooted over to make room for Taehyung, who eagerly climbed into the bed beside Namjoon, making himself comfortable under the covers.
“Are you okay?” Taehyung giggled as he wormed his way into Namjoon’s side. “Didn’t realize I was so scary.”
“I’m fine. What about you?”
Taehyung groaned and buried his face in Namjoon’s pillow. “I keep thinking about that one scene at the end, with all the blood? Ugh. It creeped me out. Can I sleep here tonight?”
“Yeah, yeah of course you can, Tae.” Absentmindedly, Namjoon started rubbing Taehyung’s back.
“Good, cause I wasn’t gonna go back to my bed even if you said no.”
Namjoon smiled. “Figures.”
The younger man tilted his head, peeking up at Namjoon with his bangs covering his eyes. And Namjoon really couldn’t help it when his arm untucked from under his blanket. His hand tucked Taehyung’s hair behind his ears, earning him a sleepy grin. “You’re really great, you know that, hyung?”
Caught off guard, Namjoon spluttered. He was grateful for the darkness in the room and how it hid the redness he knew must be in his cheeks. “Thank you, Taehyung. You’re great too.”
“I know!” Taehyung chirped. Then, without warning, he leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Namjoon’s lips. “Goodnight, hyung!”
Namjoon laid awake that night for what felt like hours.
There was no use denying it – he had feelings for Taehyung.
The third package of samgyeopsal was slid into the cart and Taehyung, who thought he was being sneaky, immediately turned away and focused on the other meats on display. He wasn’t being sneaky. At all. Namjoon saw him try to surreptitiously sneak in the second package and didn’t say anything but surely three was too much?
“Tae,” he sighed. “Do we need all three?”
“Hmm? What are you talking about, hyung?” Taehyung’s face looked so innocent when he turned that Namjoon almost fell for it.
“The samgyeopsal. We don’t really need three do we?”
“Of course we do, don’t be silly.” Taehyung pinched reached out and pinched his cheek, almost like you would your baby cousin. Before Namjoon could say anything else, Taehyung marched behind Namjoon. He caged the taller boy between himself and the cart as Namjoon was still pushing, Taehyung’s hands framing his on the handle.
Namjoon let himself be steered away, feeling silly the whole while. They waddled out of the meat section, past the juice aisle, and the breakfast cereals were in sight when Taehyung suddenly stopped. But Namjoon didn’t realize, so even though he meant to keep walking, the cart did not. His stomach dug painfully into the handlebar.
“Joonie hyung,” Taehyung wheedled. He dropped a hand to Namjoon’s stomach and attempted to pat the pain away. “Can we go down this aisle? I want one of those bags of fun sized Snickers.”
“We have Snickers at home.” Namjoon tried to get Taehyung to walk again but the other wouldn’t budge.
“But they’re not fun sized,” he huffed. His breath was hot on Namjoon’s neck. He leaned forward, attempting to drape himself over Namjoon. Previously, this action would’ve annoyed Namjoon; he would’ve shoved Taehyung off in a heartbeat and continued on to the cereal (he was already eyeing a particularly enticing box of Reese’s Puffs). But now he felt himself leaning back slightly into the man’s embrace – or, whatever you would classify it as. Not so much a hug, really, it kind of felt like Taehyung was trying to scale his back but wasn’t totally committed to the idea.
“I don’t understand how there could possibly be a difference, Taehyung.”
Taehyung groaned where his face was buried in Namjoon’s neck. “The ratio of peanuts is so much better in the fun sized ones. How could you not know this?”
“Taehyung,” Namjoon said firmly. They were starting to get odd looks and Namjoon liked this grocery store, he’d like to be able to return someday in the near future. He dropped a shoulder and Taehyung took the hint, slowly unwrapped himself from his hyung. Namjoon missed his warmth immediately. “You know I don’t eat those.”
“But we always have Snickers in the house.”
“Yeah, they’re for you and Jimin.”
“Jimin doesn’t eat Snickers.”
Namjoon paused. “Oh. Then I guess they’re for you.”
Taehyung grinned. “So if I’m the only one eating them, I should get a say in which ones we get.” It wasn’t a question anymore of if they were getting the fun sized Snickers, Namjoon realized, but how many bags were they going to get. Taehyung turned down the aisle, still facing Namjoon as he took exaggerated measured steps away from him. Silently, Namjoon watched. Taehyung stopped. Still not looking away from Namjoon, Taehyung’s hand slithered out and his fingers wrapped around a bag of fun sized Snickers. The bag was quickly transferred to Taehyung’s other hand before he grabbed another bag, then another.
Though he sighed, for what felt like the 20th time in the half hour they’d been in the grocery store, Namjoon followed after Taehyung. He stopped the cart by Taehyung’s side when the younger had six bags in his arms, which were all unceremoniously dropped into the cart. Namjoon raised an eyebrow. Taehyung smiled in the way that made older women swoon and younger women blush.
Namjoon rolled his eyes. “The things I do for you.”
Taehyung’s smile grew and Namjoon just barely saw that spark, the mischievous glint, before Taehyung grabbed onto the front of his shirt and pulled him in.
Their lips met, for the third time, in the middle of the candy aisle. Namjoon had stumbled forward, of course tripping over his own feet when Taehyung pulled him in. But Taehyung had been prepared for that and caught him by the shoulders. His hands travelled from Namjoon’s shoulders to his neck, to cup his cheeks as he kissed him and Namjoon’s hands settled on Taehyung’s waist as he kissed him back.
Taehyung’s lips were warm against his, so soft and inviting. Namjoon felt like he could have kissed Taehyung like this forever.
But all good things come to an end, and that end was a little girl who came along and pushed at Namjoon’s back. Namjoon pulled away with a start, face growing hot as he saw the little girl grab her candy and scowl at them. “Sorry!” he called after her, but all he got back was another dirty look as she clutched her candy to her chest.
“Guess we are kinda in the way, huh?” Taehyung laughed as he picked up another bag of Snickers that immediately went in the cart. “Maybe we should take this elsewhere?”
It felt like all Namjoon could do was nod as he let Taehyung steer him out of the aisle, so that’s what he did. But once they left the aisle it was as if a bubble had been popped. The goofy, carefree atmosphere from the candy aisle was gone and Namjoon didn’t know how to get it back.
They paid for their groceries and drove home without another word.
It was tense around the house.
Namjoon wasn’t sure how but before he realized it, a week had gone by and he didn’t think he had seen Taehyung for more than five minutes that entire week. And when he did see him, they still weren’t really talking. There might have been a tense nod between them or a mumbled good morning, but that was the extent of it. Most days Namjoon would think Taehyung hadn’t been coming home if it weren’t for the ever-changing shape of his dirty clothes pile on his side of the room.
How did he let things get like this?
Sure, it’d been a bit awkward in the wake of his and Taehyung’s grocery store make-out, but was that really enough to keep them from talking? Namjoon was sure Taehyung had done more with Jimin and it never created a rift between the two, so why were things so different with him?
Then again, what would he even say to Taehyung? Namjoon knew where he stood – he had feelings for Taehyung. He liked kissing him, liked being around him, would potentially like to try being more than just friends with him. But where did Taehyung stand? Was kissing Namjoon just a new past time for him?
But Namjoon didn’t like to think things like that for too long. So he opted to not think about the situation at all if he could help it.
“Hyung,” Jimin whimpered, leaning into Namjoon where he was stood in front of the fridge. “I don’t feel well.” The younger boy’s head rested heavily on Namjoon’s bicep and he could feel the heat burning a hole through his shirt.
He stood up straight and wiped his hands on his jeans before he reached up and felt for Jimin’s temperature with the back of his hand. “Ah, Jiminie, you’re too warm. You need to go lie down.”
“Hungry, though,” Jimin said through his pout. “Do we have noodles?”
Namjoon could’ve sworn he’d bought some instant noodles at the grocery store the other day, with Taehyung. A quick check confirmed that yes, they did in fact have one pack of noodles left. So it was with a quick reassurance that Namjoon could make the noodles without setting the kitchen on fire that Jimin retreated back to bed, a sad lump with his favorite blanket wrapped tightly around his body.
Namjoon immediately got to work boiling water in a decently sized sauce pan. The water had just started to bubble up when Taehyung walked into the kitchen. He saw Namjoon and stopped, but Namjoon had already heard him walk in and they both knew that they both knew they were in the room. So really, the only thing to do was say,
“Hi.” It came out a bit meek and Namjoon kicked himself internally. Why did he sound so scared?
“Uh… hi,” Taehyung said carefully. “Does Jimin know you’re cooking?”
He couldn’t help it, he snorted. “Yeah, he knows. It’s for him actually,” Namjoon started to explain and once he got going he found it hard to stop. “He isn’t feeling too well, but he said he was hungry so I told him I’d make him food. Noodles. Jjapaguri. The water just started boiling.”
Taehyung nodded. “You should probably put the noodles in, then. So Jimin can actually eat them.”
“Oh!” Namjoon looked into the pot, saw that Taehyung was right. Noodles did cook a lot better when added to hot water. “Yeah, right.” He worked the noodles from the bag as he spoke. “I knew that, I just – uh. I guess I’m a little distracted.”
“Hmm.” Taehyung came forward then, joining Namjoon at the stove. “You know, if that’s for Jimin, he really likes beef in his jjapaguri.”
The older man paused mid stir of the noodles. “He does? Yeah, he does. You’re right. I don’t – I don’t know if we have any beef still?”
Taehyung moved to the other side of Namjoon to look in the fridge. Namjoon picked up his stirring. The noodles didn’t really need to be stirred. They were still pretty solidly in the chunk they came out of the bag in, but Namjoon needed to do something with his hands. Something to distract him from how close Taehyung was, how much he wanted to reach out and grab him, never let him go again.
It wasn’t long before Taehyung had dug out the beef strips Jimin cooked a few days prior and was cutting them into bite sized pieces. He added them to a frying pan to warm them up along with a few spices he knew Jimin was fond of.
They cooked in relative silence – all Namjoon could hear was the bubbling of the water and sizzling from the grease in the frying pan. He was about to say something, anything, when Taehyung beat him to it.
“I’ve been drawing a bit lately. You know how I love to paint, so I thought drawing would be a nice change up, but not too different. But it’s harder than I thought it’d be.” Taehyung sighed, flipped the pieces of meat. “I see these images in my head and I try to put them on paper but it’s never the same, I just can’t get it right.”
Well. Namjoon wasn’t an artist. Not when it came to visual art, at least. But he had always been fascinated with paintings, drawings, sketches. When he put pen to paper, words would flow from the ink, not pictures. He had read lots of things about art, though.
“I’m not sure how much this will help,” he said slowly, “but I read something about art once. It said that where people go wrong is they try to recreate things the way they think they should be. Like, ‘I know what eyelashes look like, so I’ll draw what I think an eyelash looks like.’ And they end up drawing a bunch of semi circles stemming from a line that is supposed to represent an eyelid. But what they don’t realize is that not all eyelashes have the same curve. Some will look perfectly straight, some might lay a bit flat, and depending on the angle you’re viewing them from, they might swoop down a bit before curving up. So it helps to view the image as a series of lines. Don’t think, ‘Eyelashes go like this,’ but think, ‘This is what this particular line looks like,’ and draw that.”
After Namjoon’s spiel Taehyung stayed quiet. When Namjoon looked over, Taehyung was staring contemplatively into the frying pan. He nodded to himself. “That makes sense. Draw what you actually see, not what you think you know the object looks like.” He transferred the meat to a plate and set it to the side, then watched Namjoon finish the noodles, seasonings and all. With the stove turned off it was quiet again and Namjoon found himself not sure what to say.
“Hyung?”
He looked up, saw Taehyung looking back at him. Taehyung took a half step closer. Namjoon expected to see that mischievous look in his eyes again, but he didn’t. What he did see, he couldn’t name, but it feels like warmth. Later on he’d look back at this moment and think it felt like home. “Yeah, Taehyung-ah?”
“Thank you.”
Taehyung, again, stepped closer to Namjoon and his long fingers found Namjoon’s in the space between their bodies. Namjoon swallowed thickly.
This time, when Taehyung kissed him, Namjoon wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t shocked, caught off guard, gobsmacked. He saw it coming and met Taehyung halfway. His hand that was holding Taehyung’s held on tightly, while the other grabbed hold to the fabric of Taehyung’s shirt over his chest. Taehyung tilted his head and slotted his lips with Namjoon’s, tongue sneaking out to lick at Namjoon’s bottom lip.
“I – what?”
The two broke apart, eyes wide and lips glossy. Namjoon’s head whips around to see Jimin standing in the doorway, blanket pooled around his feet and expression confused.
“Jimin!” Namjoon hurried to get him his food. “Here, we just finished.”
Jimin stared blankly into the dish for a moment before looking back up at the two of them. “Can I have a fork?”
Taehyung had a fork in Jimin’s hand within seconds. The smaller man looked between the two of them once more, eyes narrowed, suspicious. He picked up his blanket and left down the hallway mumbling under his breath.
Once he was gone Namjoon turned back to Taehyung only to find him looking down at his feet.
“Tae?”
Taehyung sucked in a sharp breath before looking back up. “Listen, Namjoon hyung, I –“
“Namjoon!” Jimin called from the depths of his bedroom. “Can you bring me the Tylenol?” His voice sounded frail, weak. Namjoon shot Taehyung an apologetic look, the latter’s big brown eyes suddenly looking so sad.
“I’m sorry, I’ll be right back.”
“Yeah, go ahead, it’s fine.” Taehyung nodded and ushered Namjoon away.
He grabbed the medicine from the hall closet but as soon as he entered Jimin’s bedroom, he was pulled away from the door and pushed towards the center of the room. The door was swiftly shut behind him and Jimin crossed his arms over his chest as he faced Namjoon.
“What are you doing?”
“Um,” Namjoon started to say, confused. Wasn’t it Jimin who called him in here? “I’m bringing you your medicine?”
“Not that,” Jimin snapped. He did snatch the pill bottle from Namjoon’s offered hand, though. “What are you doing with Tae?”
Where to fucking begin, Namjoon thought.
“I don’t know?” he said.
“Do you know how upset he’s been this last week, Namjoon? He knows you’re upset but he doesn’t know why exactly, just knows that it’s because of him. He can’t eat, he can’t sleep. Most nights he lays in here and stares at the fucking wall.” Jimin moved towards his bed but he was a bit wobbly and begrudgingly had to accept Namjoon’s assistance. “He likes you, hyung, has for years, and he was thinking that maybe you might like him too –“
“I do! I do like him!” Namjoon whisper yelled. His heart raced at Jimin’s words. Taehyung liked him!
“Are you sure? Because I love you, but I will not hesitate to fucking end your life,” Jimin scowled. Tucked into bed the way he was, he wasn’t very intimidating, but Namjoon had seen Jimin in action and knew he was not one you wanted to fuck around and find out with.
“I’m sure, Jimin. I wasn’t at first but I do now. I really like Taehyung, I promise.”
“Then you need to go out there and fucking tell him.”
Namjoon nodded. “I will. I promise I will.”
“Good.” Jimin settled himself in bed and opened the pill bottle. Namjoon watched as he dry swallowed two pills without so much as a grimace. “Well, what are you waiting for? Fucking go already.”
Namjoon nodded again and scrambled out before Jimin decided to throw the bottle at him. When he got back to the kitchen, Taehyung was sitting at the table, fingers tracing the wood grain.
“Hi,” Namjoon said softly.
Taehyung startled, then looked up and gave Namjoon a soft grin. “How’s the patient doing?”
“It was looking pretty grave there for a minute,” Namjoon said with a heavy sigh, sitting in the chair next to Taehyung. “But I think he’s going to make it.”
The other man nodded. “And what about us? Are we going to make it?”
“What do you mean?” Namjoon frowned.
“Kissing you is great, hyung,” Taehyung said, fingers resuming their path on the table. “But I don’t know if I can take what happens afterwards, where things get awkward and we don’t talk.”
“Taehyung.” Namjoon laid a hand on top of Taehyung’s, stopping his fingers as they neared him. “Things never had to be weird between us.” Namjoon took the initiative then, it was his turn to intertwine their fingers. Hearing from Jimin that Taehyung felt the same way gave him a confidence he didn’t know he’d had inside him. What had previously felt like too scary a topic to even think about, he no longer had any qualms about broaching with Taehyung.
Taehyung frowned, but Namjoon could see that the other’s eyes were focused on their hands. “You didn’t talk to me after the grocery store.”
“I was embarrassed we got caught by a little girl,” Namjoon chuckled. “And it was a little awkward, yeah, but you didn’t talk to me either.”
“Why should I have had to be the one to talk? I was the one who kept kissing you,” Taehyung pulled his hand away from Namjoon with a pout.
“Hey, don’t be like that.” Namjoon took his hand back. “Taehyung, I’m sorry. I should’ve been more mature about this, but I was nervous. And maybe a little scared. But I’m not too scared to talk about it anymore: Taehyung, I like you.” Taehyung’s eyes had grown wide as they moved from their interlocked fingers to Namjoon’s eyes. “I want to be with you. Do you feel the same way?”
“Of course I do, hyung. I have for so long.”
And that time it was Namjoon who pulled Taehyung in, Namjoon who leaned in and pressed his lips to Taehyung’s. But unlike the day of the power outage, Namjoon wasn’t just playing along to pacify Taehyung. The kiss said I’m sorry. It said I forgive you. It said I want to be with you. It said it was just the beginning – one of the first kisses of, hopefully, hundreds, at least.
When they pulled apart it was on their own terms, and not because they were interrupted. Taehyung smiled bashfully at Namjoon, then buried his face in his boyfriends (boyfriend!!!) shoulder.
“One thing, though,” Namjoon started, coaxing Taehyung’s head up. He waited til the other was focused solely on him before he spoke again. “No more kissing Jimin? Not even when you guys do your role playing thing?”
Taehyung’s face scrunched in confusion. “Hyung, I don’t kiss Jimin.”
Namjoon frowned. “I’ve seen you kiss him loads of times.”
“I’ve never kissed Jimin,” Taehyung said, shaking his head.
“Yes you –“
“Oh!” he barked out a laugh. “That! No, that’s just a stage kiss, hyung. When we do that, we’re – here, I’ll show you.”
Taehyung leaned in, eyes on Namjoon’s mouth. Namjoon was confused. It felt an awful lot like he was about to be kissed. Taehyung’s hand drifted up his arm, across his shoulder, fingers tickling across his neck, before his palm was suddenly over Namjoon’s mouth. Then, just as quickly as his palm covered Namjoon’s lips, Taehyung swooped in and kissed the back of his own hand. He really hammed it up, twisting his head and making smooching noises as he did so. When he pulled back he was grinning.
“See?”
Namjoon nodded, blushing. “I see.”
“Aw, Joonie hyung, were you jealous of Jiminie?”
Maybe. “No.”
“You don't have to worry,” Taehyung assured, pecking Namjoon square on the lips. “I’ll save all my kisses for you.”