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There were things Namjoon didn’t care about.
It was probably ridiculous to just about anyone else, but when he saw Yoongi hanging with those guys who walk around with trouble at their fingertips, he couldn’t stand around and do nothing. Because as much as he didn’t care about those guys, he cared about Yoongi. He searched for an ounce of recognition in the boy sitting on the car hood, and just a flash was enough to draw Namjoon closer.
“Does Mini know you’re here?” Namjoon started, in Korean, to throw off the people Yoongi now called his friends. He eyed the cigarette in Yoongi’s mouth. The friends looked at each other like Namjoon was crazy for talking to Yoongi like that. “Or did you lie to him, too?”
“Lie?” Yoongi raised his eyebrows, hopping off the car. He hadn’t grown much since middle school, not like Namjoon had, so he had to look up with narrowed eyes. Like he was some tough guy. “It’s just omitting the truth, Joonie.”
Namjoon felt his frown deepen. Omitting the truth? Really? “That’s not much better,” he said, snatching the cigarette from between Yoongi’s lips and squashing it with his shoe. Yoongi pushed Namjoon back, hands firm against his chest. “You’re a hypocrite. You hate this shit. I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
“Why should I care?”
Namjoon’s eyes watered. “Because,” he gritted, “you’re my friend.”
Yoongi looked behind him, then back at Namjoon. “I’m not your friend,” he spat in English, loud and clear for everyone to hear. The guys behind him snickered, blew smoke out of their mouths just like Yoongi was doing a couple minutes ago.
Namjoon couldn’t take it anymore—couldn’t handle the dismissive tone, the cocky attitude. He just closed his eyes and swung at Yoongi’s face.
What he didn’t expect, though, was for Yoongi to swing back.
As soon as Yoongi’s fist collided with his temple, Namjoon lost his balance and stumbled to the ground. He opened his eyes just in time to see Yoongi on top of him, throwing a second punch.
The whole time, Namjoon could not recognize the person he called his best friend.
++
It’s barely six a.m. when Namjoon woke up to his cell phone’s ringtone. His gut feeling told him he needed to get up and answer it, but his body rolled over to go back to sleep. Namjoon wondered for a second if it was Jimin—it could always be him—so he rolled in the other direction, helplessly grabbing his phone beside him.
“Mini?” Namjoon ran a hand over his face, regaining his balance. “It’s like—”
“Get down here,” Jimin rushed to say, interrupting as soon as he could. At urgency in Jimin’s voice, Namjoon scrambled to grab a shirt and a hoodie. In all the years they’ve known each other, he hadn’t heard Jimin sound like that ever. “Like, now. You need to see this.”
Namjoon stumbled from his bedroom to the hallway, tiptoeing past his parents’ bedroom, sliding on his slippers. It was still early, so he would probably have to come back and get ready for school before they woke up. If he didn’t get in before they wake up, he’d go through hell trying to justify why he left.
He took the stairway down to the lobby level, leaving through the side, where Jimin had been meeting him to go to school together the past few weeks. Ever since Yoongi behaved that way to Namjoon—acting like the big guy and punching Namjoon in the face, twice—they had been hanging out together more often. Yoongi clearly showed he had other priorities.
“Hey,” Jimin said, still dressed in his pajamas, a puffy jacket thrown haphazardly over his clothes. Like Namjoon, he was wearing his outside slippers too. His phone was clutched in one hand, until it was shoved into Namjoon’s hands. “Read it.”
Namjoon frowned as he rubbed his eyes, squinting to read without his glasses. But once he managed to focus on the text message from one of Jimin’s classmates, his mouth went dry at the words.
Keith (AP World) [5:04 a.m.]
hey jimin I think one of your friends got arrested
the guy who dropped out a few weeks ago? with the bleached hair?
he got picked up near where I live, I saw it. there were a lot of cops and stuff
do you know anything?
“Yoongi got arrested?” Namjoon asked, looking back at Jimin—he finally noticed the bloodshot eyes, the tear stains on his cheeks.
Jimin grabbed Namjoon’s wrist, tugging him from the center of the alley, towards the sidewalk. The sight of cop cars and flashing lights shone over their quiet street, lighting up Yoongi’s parents’ restaurant red and blue. There they were, Yoongi’s parents and his older sister, standing with three different police officers.
That had to be enough proof for Namjoon to believe what Jimin’s classmate said was true. Yoongi got arrested.
“He’s so fucking stupid,” Namjoon muttered, the memory of the boy he thought he knew repeating in his mind, over and over. Having Yoongi, a stranger, stand over him and punch him without any remorse. “What was he thinking?”
“I don’t know,” Jimin replied, his voice small, almost unrecognizable. Namjoon hesitated at first, but as soon as he began to reach out, Jimin leapt into his arms and just cried.
It felt like losing Yoongi all over again. It was even more heartbreaking than when Namjoon’s dog passed away three years ago, because at least when that happened, Yoongi was there. Namjoon couldn’t do anything but hold Jimin and be the strong one. He didn’t know what happened, but the end of their friendship felt final that way.
++
“Hey Joonie,” Jimin called from a few feet away, sweat glistening on his neck, sun shining above their heads. Namjoon held his hand over the spot in his book and tried to look anywhere but Jimin’s body, which was getting more and more difficult as the days passed. Junior year was doing him wonders, and the two of them had gotten ridiculously close these last six months.
“Hey,” Namjoon said, trying to remain nonchalant. What was he doing, getting nervous and awkward around one of his best friends? “What’re you up to after school later?”
Jimin shrugged, sliding into the spot at the table beside Namjoon. “Skipping my last two classes to see Yoongi,” he said, taking out his phone as soon as he sat down. Namjoon looked back at his book, jaw clenching. He hated that Jimin still went to go see him. “You want to come?”
Deep down, something in Namjoon did want to go. He wanted to see if his friend was still in there somewhere, beneath all the tough boy persona he had. Part of him still cared about Yoongi even after what he did. Another part of him said that Yoongi didn’t deserve a second chance.
“No,” Namjoon said, and pretended to keep reading his book.
++
It was prom night when Namjoon realized he was in love with Jimin.
Namjoon’s senior prom night, that is. He had a date—he asked this girl in his English class to go with him, and she agreed that they would go as friends. She was nice to him the entire school year and they got along well enough, plus she had just broken up with her boyfriend. Namjoon felt kind of bad for asking her out of pity, but he wasn’t going to wait for someone to ask him.
He only realized he wished it was Jimin when he was getting ready, and Jimin insisted on helping him get dressed.
“In a few weeks, you’re gonna graduate,” Jimin whispered as he adjusted Namjoon’s bowtie. They stood in the center of Namjoon’s messy bedroom, clothes piled on the floor, bed left unmade, books piled on the desk. Things he was accustomed to, but suddenly it was too embarrassing for Jimin to see. “You look good in a tux, by the way.”
“Uh,” Namjoon murmured, nearly going cross-eyed as he stared down at Jimin’s delicate face. “Thanks. I feel clumsy in it.”
Jimin shook his head, did a single smooth over Namjoon’s shoulders with his hands, and said, “No, you look great. You’ll be great.”
Namjoon’s fingers twitched, tempted to reach for his hand. But he knew better, he knew the chances of Jimin loving him back were low. “I wish you were going,” he mumbled, lowering his head a little.
“Why, so you can sulk on me the whole night?”
“No, but—I don’t know. Everything is more fun with you.”
Jimin’s smile grew, just a tad. Enough for Namjoon’s anxiety to soothe over, for his heart to fall right into Jimin’s gentle hands. “Don’t worry. I convinced my mom to let me stay over tonight, so if you don’t go to any after parties, then… I’ll be here.”
For some reason, Namjoon didn’t know why, but he almost cried at that moment. He never wanted to lose Jimin. He never wanted to let him go.
++
College was weird without Jimin at Namjoon’s heels, but he managed to meet this guy named Hobi who had way too much energy and an undying passion for dance. It made him think of Yoongi, sometimes, how they both loved music to the ends of the earth. Since they were ten-years-old, they were bonded in this way—in music being their lifelines.
Hobi was cheerful; a solid and loyal friend in the way you know he would always be there for you regardless of what you needed. Namjoon and Hobi bonded in a way he didn’t particularly understand, but he was fond of it. Hobi dragged him out of his comfort zone more often than not. They were a good support for each other, especially considering Hobi’s family lived in Northern California.
It was December, Namjoon was in his dorm with Hobi, studying for finals and somehow succeeding. His phone was on his desk, beside his stack of books that never left. It vibrated once, and he just glanced at it. Two more times, and Namjoon wondered who would bother him when everyone’s swamped with finals.
Finally, his ringtone cut through the silence.
“Mini?” Namjoon asked into his phone, once he finally noticed who was incessantly messaging him. “What’s going on?”
“Joonie, uh—” Jimin’s voice shook, the way it did when he was nervous or worried or lying. Namjoon had trouble figuring out which one it was. “Yoongi. He got out.”
Namjoon’s chest tightened. He tried not to think about what that could mean. Was Yoongi still a bad person? Would he come for Namjoon in some way because of what happened?
“He’s staying with his parents and he’s on parole… but I wanted you to know through me.”
“Okay,” Namjoon said. “I don’t care.”
Jimin sighed. “Joonie—”
“I don’t care,” Namjoon repeated, fire burning beneath his skin. “Why should I anymore? It’s been a year and a half since he told me he wasn’t my friend. Why would I care about him if he said that?”
“I get that, but—”
Namjoon fumed. “You don’t,” he interrupted, and Jimin’s voice faltered even through the phone speaker. “He stayed your friend through all of his bullshit. You don’t understand, Jimin. He threw our friendship away, so don’t try to convince me to care.”
He stopped; his breathing heavy, heart pounding, head spinning. Why was Jimin hellbent on making them reconcile? He couldn’t understand what Namjoon went through, the pain and heartbreak just from one person. Yoongi ended a ten-year friendship, just for some guys who told him it was cool to drop out and party instead.
“Okay. I get it. You’re jealous of the fact Yoongi stayed my friend and not yours, is that right?” Jimin asked, and that quiver in his voice vanished in an instant. No one talked down to Jimin Park without retaliation, Namjoon knew that, and yet he still did. “Yoongi is my friend, Namjoon. You’ll have to get used to me hanging out with him and not you all the time.”
“Mini—”
“Man, I was just—I was trying to be nice, telling you about Yoongi before you found out online or something. But you’re being a dick about it when you don’t have to be.”
Namjoon ran a hand over his face, wondering how he put himself in this situation. Jimin was ruthless when it came to defending his loyalty to his friends.
“Good luck on finals, asshole,” Jimin said, before he hung up and left Namjoon speechless.
++
After that, Namjoon knew he didn’t want to lose Jimin. He forced Jimin to go out for lunch with him over winter break.
“I’m sorry,” Namjoon said, as soon as they sat down across from each other in the restaurant. He couldn’t keep it in, not when Jimin kept looking at him with mild resentment. He wanted his friend back—his Jimin. “I was mean. And I was a dick, you’re right, I just—I don’t know why you want me to care so badly.”
“Because we were all friends, Joonie,” Jimin said, reaching out to take one of Namjoon’s hands, fingers warm. The resentment on his face melted into remorse in a matter of seconds. Sometimes Namjoon forgot that Jimin’s loyalty applied to him too. “I miss when it was me and you and Yoongi. I fucking miss that. I thought you would want to meet him if I told you he got out.”
Namjoon shook his head, feeling regret burrow so easily in his chest. If he never said anything to Yoongi about what he was doing, then this wouldn’t have happened. He would never be in this position.
“No, I don’t… think I can do that, Mini,” Namjoon said apologetically, tilting his head downwards. He watched Jimin’s fingers twitch in his hand, then grip tighter. “My friendship with Yoongi is unsalvageable. I cared about him for my whole life, but he looked at me like I was nobody to him. I didn’t deserve that.”
“You didn’t,” Jimin replied, bringing his other hand to join Namjoon’s on the table. It felt a little like love, but Namjoon couldn’t get ahead of himself like that. All these years, and why would Jimin start to like him back now? “Look. He’s still my friend. You need to be okay with that. Just like last time, I’m not picking sides.”
“I don’t want you to pick sides. Be his friend, Jimin. I’m sure your image of Yoongi is much better than how I see him, and I don’t want to ruin that.”
“You sure? I’m gonna call you out if you complain about him.”
“I promise.”
++
Before Jimin graduated high school, they went to Yosemite for spring break.
It was just their two families, driving up to the snow together for a week of fun and hiking. Namjoon was excited, he hadn’t gone to the snow in years, and there weren’t any good new hikes to do near where they live. He already did most of them, more than half with Jimin complaining that his legs were hurting, lagging about ten feet behind him.
Jimin loved the snow. He ran around like a child when they arrived, snapping pictures with his phone and kicking snow into Namjoon’s face.
They had a snowball fight. Namjoon’s favorite memory is Jimin mid-laughter after he threw the biggest snowball right into Namjoon’s stomach.
It felt like walking on fire, sharing a bed with Jimin, and Namjoon felt like the ultimate creep for watching the boy he was in love with sleep so peacefully, but he cherished it. They stayed up late and watched movies, and gossiped with each other about the people in their grades that the other didn’t even really know.
One night, Namjoon sighed quietly into the dim light of their room, and murmured, “I like guys, Jimin.”
The room went still, so much so that Namjoon could hear his own heartbeat. The only other person he knew that liked guys too was Yoongi, but this was different. At least Yoongi had the liberty of being in a heteronormative relationship if he wanted to, but Namjoon?
Namjoon was in love with his best friend. And his best friend was a boy. He didn’t think he ever liked girls.
“I think I do too, Joonie,” Jimin said, a minute later. Namjoon jerked his head up and found Jimin’s eyes, pain glittering in them. His lips trembled, squeezing his eyes shut as tears fell down his cheeks. “I hate myself.”
“Why?” Namjoon scooted closer, letting Jimin hide himself in his chest. Warmth burst on every inch of Namjoons skin. “You shouldn’t hate yourself, Mini. You’re worth everything.”
“Because, I’m a walking stereotype. Everyone always assumed I was gay because I dance, and they were right—I am gay. What are they going to say about that?” Jimin cried, holding onto Namjoon’s shirt like his life depended on it. Maybe it did, at that moment. Maybe Namjoon held onto Jimin just as tightly. “What will our parents think?”
Namjoon pressed his forehead to the top of Jimin’s head. “I don’t know,” he muttered, soothing his hand down Jimin’s back. “We’ll be here for each other, won’t we?”
“Of course.” Jimin pulled back, smiled that bright way he always had, despite the tears on his face. “I invited you to come with me for this trip, didn’t I?”
All Namjoon heard was, “I invited you and not Yoongi,” and he couldn’t figure out why he hated that idea.
I’m in love with you, Namjoon almost said.
“I’m so glad you’re my best friend,” Namjoon said instead.
Lying to Jimin hurt more than anything Namjoon has ever felt in his entire life.
++
Inevitably, Jimin became distant once he moved two hours away to the arts college he committed to. They were still close and they talked every-so-often, but Namjoon constantly saw online—rather than hearing from Jimin himself—that he went to parties and started exploring his style and sexuality more. Things he never saw coming, not even from a mile away.
It sucked for Namjoon, regardless of how happy he was that Jimin was discovering his carefree nature. He hated that something still made him hesitate when he tried to tell Jimin about his feelings, and a little bit that he had them in the first place. Wasn’t it Namjoon’s obligation as the older one to say something?
He struggled with these strange feelings he came to understand were jealousy in Jimin’s first semester of his freshman year of college, but after the second semester began, Namjoon started to make an effort more often. The last thing he wanted was for Jimin to forget about him, about their friendship. If Jimin went the extra mile when Namjoon moved away, then he could do the same.
Over time, it got easier. Jimin started texting him more often, sharing tidbits about his classes and the kids in his grade. About the girls he hung out with because they were more understanding about his sexuality than the other dancer boys. About the guys he went on dates with, but apparently were all horrible.
Namjoon wasn’t very good at keeping his feelings in check. It was the middle of the week, a random day in March, where he decided to just order a ride to Jimin’s college.
Of course, being who he was, he had Jimin’s class schedule memorized. (He was pretty sure Jimin had his memorized too, so it wasn’t as weird as it sounded, he swore.) Namjoon showed up at the end of one of Jimin’s classes, just because he missed him. Because their spring break didn’t line up anymore, and they just missed each other when Jimin came home.
“Joonie!” Jimin’s face lit up with the brightest joy that Namjoon has ever seen in his life, unprepared to be leapt on for a hug.
That was nicer than he thought, though. Having Jimin hug him, bodies flush, arms tightened around each other.
“Hey, Mini,” Namjoon said, tucking his face carefully into Jimin’s shoulder, making sure to bend down enough for Jimin to hug him properly. “Sorry I didn’t say anything about coming. Just felt like shit today.”
“It’s fine. I thought you had class Wednesday evenings,” Jimin said, pulling back, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. Namjoon glanced past him, at the two girls and the guy who stood by the classroom entrance, waiting for Jimin. He wasn’t a fan of how that guy kept looking over at them so judgmentally.
“I do.” Namjoon looked back at Jimin and smiled. Because here he was, two hours away from his own school, because he needed to see Jimin. If he hadn’t done this, Namjoon was sure he would just be lying in his dorm bed and complaining to Hobi about how terrible things were going for him. “But it’s fine, I wanted to see you.”
Jimin smiled; it was a look he hadn’t quite seen, something a little shy and flirtatious. And, oh, did that mean Jimin was flirting with him? Namjoon wondered if he looked any differently, he still dressed how he did in high school. There weren’t any noticeable changes, so why could Jimin possibly be looking at him differently?
“One sec,” Jimin said, turning away for a moment, back towards the group waiting for him. “I’m going to go with my friend, so I’ll see y’all later?”
That one guy in the group eyed Namjoon with suspicion. His eye must have caught the pride patch ironed onto his jean jacket, because that look morphed into disgust pretty much immediately. Blatant homophone.
“Let’s go.” Jimin grabbed Namjoon’s hand, pulling him in the opposite direction of his supposed friends. “I found this really good Chinese restaurant when I was on one of my bad dates, but the food was so good I have to take you there.”
Namjoon tilted his head back and laughed. He seriously missed Jimin more than words could describe.
++
There was this kid that Namjoon met in the first week of his second semester of sophomore year.
He was strange—Kim Taehyung. He introduced himself to Namjoon as a Korean native, but he spoke flawless English, as was his Korean. Namjoon knew pretty much no one that was exceptional in both languages at the same time. Even his own Korean was rusty, he didn’t have an extensive vocabulary and his grammar was nonexistent.
Namjoon and Hobi eventually learned that Taehyung grew up between the two countries when he was a kid—because his dad is some multimillionaire—and that meant he always threw his money at the two of them. He didn’t have many friends in L.A. yet, so Namjoon and Hobi were happy to take him on. He talked to them in Korean and called them, “hyung,” in the cutest, most endearing way.
Taehyung was cool, in spite of his weirdness. He was one of those people who helped Namjoon feel unafraid of his sexuality, of being in his own skin. Sometimes it felt like Namjoon was just a fashion project to him (Taehyung studied fashion), but he didn’t mind. Somehow, it was something Namjoon needed to find confidence.
On Hobi’s birthday, they went to a party and got so drunk that Namjoon was seeing three Hobi and Taehyung’s by the time they got back to Taehyung’s house.
Taehyung sat Namjoon down on the floor of his TV room, hands splayed on Namjoon’s knees, and slurred, “Please tell me why you’re still single, you perfect, beautiful man.”
Namjoon whined at the reminder of how far apart from Jimin he was. They spent the entirety of last summer attached to the hip—except for when Jimin worked at Yoongi’s parents’ restaurant—running around West Hollywood like they hadn’t lived in Koreatown their whole lives. It was the most fun Namjoon even had in one summer with Jimin.
(He was lying when he said that, by the way. The best summer he had with Jimin was when he was fifteen, and Jimin was fourteen, and Yoongi had just turned sixteen in March, so he had his license. Almost every weekend, they managed to sneak out and drive Yoongi’s dad’s car to the beach together. It was impossible to not feel free in those moments. Those were the last good memories he had with Yoongi before he became a stranger, and Namjoon wanted to preserve that as much as possible.)
“I’m in love with my best friend,” Namjoon said, falling onto his back, with Taehyung sprawled over him. Taehyung was clingy, but not really in a bad way—he just enjoyed giving people comfort through physical affection, like Hobi did, so Namjoon took it with love. “Mini, or well, his name is Jimin. I’ve been in love with him for two and a half years.”
“Two and a half years?” Taehyung asked, rolling to lie on the floor too. Namjoon sighed at the ceiling. Two and a half years—he really was that pathetic. “That’s a long time.”
Namjoon rubbed his face, and tried not to cry. “I know,” he said, thinking of Jimin’s smile and his soft, small hands on his own. The way his embrace felt against his chest, the way his voice sounded when he said, “Joonie,” and laughed right after.
“Are you going to tell him?” Hobi asked, plopping down beside them. The two sandwiched Namjoon between them, warm and comforting. “You’ve been head over heels as long as I’ve known you.”
Namjoon swallowed his anxiety and didn’t answer. He didn’t know quite when yet, but it needed to be this year.
++
The morning after Namjoon went home for summer break, he woke up and just decided he needed to tell Jimin as soon as possible. If he didn’t do it now, then it would be another wasted summer without Jimin knowing. Because even if things don’t work out, it would be impossible to move on if he never shared his feelings in the first place.
It was probably overboard in hindsight, but Namjoon got dressed up once he convinced Jimin to come over. He tidied up his bedroom, and made his bed, and styled his hair about five different times. By the time Jimin arrived, Namjoon’s bedroom looked so spotless that it could have been in an IKEA warehouse as a model display.
“Hey,” Namjoon breathed, when he opened the front door. He was so grateful his parents were both at work.
“Hey Joonie,” Jimin said, laughing as he immediately went for a hug, squeezing Namjoon’s torso extra tight. Namjoon tried to savor the moment, but Jimin was gone just as quickly as he initiated it. He trailed into the kitchen as if the space was his own and browsed the fridge for a drink. “It’s so fucking hot, I’m melting.”
Namjoon laughed, his shoulders relaxing. This was Jimin, his best friend in the entire world. What was the point of being so afraid when he knew that Jimin would treat him gently no matter how he felt?
“Kind of a spoiled thing to say, Mini,” Namjoon said, and leaned against the kitchen counter. He accepted the can of coffee that Jimin gave him, but set it aside—caffeine will only make his nervous jitters worse, so logically drinking coffee would be stupid. “Think about places like—I don’t know—Florida. They get so much more humidity than us.”
“I’m not in Florida, so it doesn’t really matter,” Jimin replied, filling a glass with ice cubes, then pouring his coffee into the glass. He took a sip, then glanced down at Namjoon’s unopened can. “You’re not having any? You love coffee.”
Namjoon braced his hands on the counter and ignored the sweat dripping down the back of his neck. “I’m fine,” he said, shaking his head afterward. Jimin placed his coffee on the counter too now, the concern growing on his face. “I’m fine, really, I’m just… nervous.”
“Nervous?” Jimin asked, placing a hand on Namjoon’s forearm. “Joonie, you don’t have to be nervous when I’m here. It’s just me, just Mini.”
“I know. That’s why—it’s so—” Namjoon stopped, forcing himself to pull away from Jimin’s caring touch. He planned this out. They need to sit down in case he gets too lightheaded and passes out. “Just—my room, please.”
“Sure.” Jimin took his own coffee and Namjoon’s with him, trailing after Namjoon into his bedroom.
As Namjoon sat on his bed, he remembered the first time Jimin ever came in here. Namjoon was six, and Jimin was five. Jimin’s parents came over once they realized that Namjoon was Korean too, and they let Jimin play with him. They were new to the neighborhood. It was back when Jimin was still fluent in Korean. Back when Yoongi was still Namjoon’s best friend.
“Joonie, what’s going on?” Jimin asked, sitting down beside him. Namjoon was so wrong for thinking his nerves wouldn’t get the better of him. Who is he kidding? This is Jimin Park, his first and only love. “Talk to me, you’re scaring me.”
Namjoon clenched his fists and tried to find his tongue, but it refused to comply.
“Namjoon,” Jimin whispered, his hands immediately on Namjoon’s face, turning it towards him.
Namjoon looked into Jimin’s eyes, easily one of the safest places he’s ever been. “I… I think I like you, Jimin,” he said into the small space between them. He covered Jimin’s hands before he could let go, steadying him. “For a while now, I’ve liked you. More than as my best friend.”
“What are you saying?” Jimin asked, his voice quiet and afraid—Namjoon didn’t want him to feel afraid, but he knew the risks of telling Jimin. “You like me?”
“That I want to date you,” Namjoon replied, letting Jimin take his hands away. He wouldn’t force Jimin to stay close to him, not when he truly loved him more than anyone in the world. But rushing into that intense of an emotion, baring his heart out so vulnerable for Jimin to see—that was too scary. “Mini, I know it might be hard to believe, but—I don’t want to hide this from you anymore.”
Jimin stared down at his hands, speechless. His mouth was open, but no words came out.
“I’m sorry,” Namjoon blurted, squeezed his eyes shut. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I knew that you wouldn’t want to, I mean—”
His voice faltered when Jimin’s hands met his cheeks, soft and warm, pressing his face inwards. Namjoon fluttered his eyes open, staring right back into Jimin’s wide eyes, somehow still comforting no matter how alarmed he seemed.
“Don’t say that,” Jimin said, and shook his head decisively. “Don’t say that, Joonie, because I like you too.”
“What?” Almost instantly, Namjoon’s hands became clammy. “Don’t just—”
“I’m not, I swear.” Jimin perched his forehead on Namjoon’s, taking a deep breath. “I like you too, Joonie. I have for a while now too, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I mean, you’re my best friend. I can’t lose you.”
Namjoon’s heart ached. He felt guilty, not telling Jimin the truth about how he truly felt, but there wasn’t a chance he could do that now. Maybe later, if things started to work out in their relationship.
“You won’t lose me,” Namjoon said, lifting his hands to mirror Jimin, placing them around Jimin’s cheeks. It was silly, but his skin was so soft, face so delicate beneath Namjoon’s hold. “I promise you that much. You will never lose me.”
“I know that.” Jimin lifted his head, his breath on Namjoon’s lips. “Is this… okay?”
Namjoon’s skin went cold. He nodded his head, and his eyes slid shut the moment their lips met.
Jimin poured all his unsaid words into the kiss, and Namjoon met him in the middle. What else could he possibly do, when he was kissing Jimin for the first time after doubting that he ever would? If he didn’t say it through the kiss, then how would Jimin truly understand how long Namjoon had been pining after him?
“Do you… want to try this?” Jimin asked, when he pulled away, lowering his hands into Namjoon’s lap.
Namjoon laced their fingers together and said, “Yes.”
++
They started dating after that.
It was the best summer Namjoon ever had.
++
Things with Jimin were better than Namjoon could have ever imagined. Even though their schools were two hours apart, they made the effort to see each other more often. Jimin came down for Namjoon’s birthday weekend and everything, in order to appropriately celebrate the beginning of his twenties. Namjoon was grateful; he would go up to see Jimin some weekends too.
Until it wasn’t so easy anymore.
Namjoon could feel it, when Jimin began to pull away from him. He didn’t know why it was happening when he thought their relationship was going well. He called Jimin at least once a week, texted him daily, sometimes ordered food to his dorm if he refused to eat something. All he’d done is be a good boyfriend, so why did it seem like Jimin didn’t care anymore?
He waited it out, reasoned that Jimin only got caught up in school and dance—that must have been why Jimin would flake on him, right?
On Jimin’s birthday weekend, Namjoon met Jimin at his parents’ apartment so they could go to dinner together.
(Keeping their relationship a secret from their parents didn’t last very long, nor was it a very smart idea. Somewhere that past summer, Jimin’s mom caught them in each other’s arms on the couch—it was very innocent—and Jimin had an argument with her. She, obviously, told Namjoon’s parents, and Jimin had to stay at Yoongi’s for a few days.
It was better now. At least, it was getting there slowly. Getting outed at the same time wasn’t exactly something Namjoon or Jimin planned on, but they were okay. They had each other.)
Namjoon fiddled with the rubber band keeping together the bouquet of flowers he bought for Jimin. He wondered if it was too overboard for this occasion, which was a silly thought to have when he had brought flowers to Jimin’s dance showcases before. Jimin’s birthday is surely reason enough for a more romantic gesture, wasn’t it?
“Wow,” Jimin said, as soon as he stepped into the hallway outside the apartment. The door was still ajar behind him, Jimin’s mom watching them with a close and judgemental eye. Namjoon held forward the bouquet of flowers, unsure of what to say as Jimin accepted them.
Because Jimin looked stunning, more than he could contain in words. The soft curves of his face sharpened by make-up, a sultry look to bring out his eyes. His shirt was loose, flattering as it hung off his shoulders and exposed the top of his chest. Namjoon’s mouth went dry pretty much as soon as he saw the way Jimin’s thighs looked in his jeans; that couldn’t be legal, at all.
“Look, Eomma, Joonie got me flowers,” Jimin said, turning around to show them off to her. Jimin’s mom only nodded, and forced a smile, and took the flowers to put them in a vase. “Should we go?”
“Sure,” Namjoon said, stepping back to give Jimin room to step out.
Jimin slipped their hands together once he shut the front door. “So… where are you taking me?” he asked, looking up with one of his soft, careful smiles. There was something beneath it, a meaning Namjoon hadn’t deciphered yet.
“There is a restaurant that I found a while ago,” Namjoon began as they walked towards the elevator on the far end of the hall. Somehow, he was the one who ended up leading the way. “I thought you’d like it. Maybe we’re a little overdressed, but it’s fine. It’s good Korean food, and it’s right next to the beach.”
“Sounds fun, Joonie,” Jimin said, with a tad of fake enthusiasm. Namjoon knew what his best friend sounded like when he was lying, yet he didn’t say a thing.
They went to dinner, and it was more normal after that. Jimin talked about his friends at school, made jokes with Namjoon about the white couple two tables away who clearly couldn’t handle the spice—Namjoon was content with that. It seemed like Jimin was enjoying their night together. It had been a while since they were able to do anything like this, at least not without Jimin having dance commitments constantly interfering.
After dinner, Namjoon took Jimin out to the beach. It wasn’t crowded, thankfully, so they walked while holding hands, free hands holding their shoes to allow their bare toes to sink into the cool sand.
“I wasn’t sure if you would have fun tonight,” Namjoon admitted, as they walked. Something about Jimin made it so easy to be honest; to be unafraid of what he thought, because he would never judge Namjoon. “But it seems like it did, Mini. And I’m glad. Happy birthday.”
“I did have fun.” Jimin squeezed Namjoon’s hand, but didn’t look up from the ground. “Just had a lot of stuff on my mind. You know shit with my parents is still not great, and—there’s a lot of pressure from my instructors at school.”
Namjoon’s heart faltered. He knew that Jimin was struggling, of course, but did he really have to overthink so much that he made it about himself? Instead of being there for Jimin, all he’s been doing is moping over the fact that Jimin hasn’t been communicating with him. He should have done more.
“You can always talk to me about that stuff, you know that,” Namjoon said, choosing his words carefully. He didn’t want to say something that made Jimin feel pressured to share with him. “I know I’m your boyfriend now, but I was your best friend first. I’ll always be there.”
“You’re sweet, Joonie,” Jimin murmured, and stopped just so he could press a kiss to Namjoon’s cheek. “You probably don’t know how much I appreciate you saying that. I’m so grateful for you.”
Namjoon let go of Jimin’s hand and pulled him closer by the waist, kissing him. With the amount of love for Jimin that Namjoon has held in his heart for all these years, there was never another way to let it out. Most of the time, he was just holding Jimin and kissing him because he didn’t know how to embody his feelings in words without sounding like poetry.
That moment, though, really stuck with Namjoon. For one reason in particular.
It was the moment he looked into Jimin’s eyes, with the full moon overhead, sand beneath their feet, and finally said, “I love you.”
Something on Jimin’s face morphed at those words, and it wasn’t in the way Namjoon expected.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that to me,” Jimin whispered, using his free hand to smooth back some of Namjoon’s fluttering pieces of hair. “You love me, Joonie?”
“More than anything,” Namjoon replied, his voice just as soft. He didn’t want to scare Jimin away with these next words. “I have for years, did you know that Mini? Since my senior year, I have been in love with you. When I first told you how I felt, I was too afraid of rejection to tell you the full truth. But I think it’s something you need to hear. From someone.”
Tears filled Jimin’s eyes. “Namjoon…” he mumbled, his chest rising and falling with every shuddering breath. “For that long?”
“Yeah, I was just… scared.” Namjoon wiped away the tears trickling out of Jimin’s eyes. “I’m not as much anymore. I love you. You need to know that.”
“I always knew, Joonie.” Jimin covered his mouth, hiding a sob. He dropped his shoes into the sand, and stood on his toes to pull Namjoon into a hug. “Maybe I didn’t know in the way you mean it now, but I always knew. But it sure feels fucking good to hear it.”
Namjoon shut his eyes as he hugged Jimin back. Hugged the love of his life back, he was sure of it. Even as he met new people at school, no one ever quite overshined Jimin in his mind. No one could ever be like Jimin.
“I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it,” Namjoon said, pulling away from the hug just to press a short kiss to Jimin’s lips. “I love you.”
Jimin sniffled, smiled widely, and whispered, “Say it again.”
“I love you.”
“Again.”
“I love you.”
“One more time, please.”
“I love you, Jimin Park.”
++
On the morning of Namjoon’s last final before summer break, he got a phone call that made his entire world stop.
From Jimin’s mom. Telling him that Jimin was in the hospital all morning after passing out at dance practice. That he would be there for a day, then get transferred to one closer to home. That Jimin wasn’t okay. That he hadn’t been okay.
Namjoon still took his exam, but he was positive he flunked it by rushing through the questions. The only thing on his mind was getting to Jimin at the hospital before the end of the day.
He got to the emergency room over three hours after his exam finished. The traffic was horrendous trying to get to the city Jimin’s college was in, and it was just his luck that he got stuck with the one Uber driver that wouldn’t drive in the fast lane.
Then Namjoon saw him.
Not Jimin—but Yoongi.
He was sitting in the waiting room with Jimin’s parents beside him, half-asleep, holding onto Jimin’s mom’s hand as they waited for something to happen. Namjoon stepped back from where he was near the entrance, eyes fixated on the person he hadn’t seen in so long. He barely recognized Yoongi anymore.
One thing hadn’t changed, and that was his bleached hair. But Yoongi’s face had gotten older in the last four years, shadowing beneath his closed eyes, body evidently more sturdy and filled out. From where Namjoon was standing, he could see two tattoos he knew for sure that Yoongi never had. He spotted one on the side of his thigh that disappeared into his shorts, and one on his forearm.
He couldn’t handle it. Seeing Yoongi after so long brought back all sorts of haunting memories. Memories he wasn’t willing to face yet, not even for Jimin.
Namjoon ran outside and called a ride to take him home.
++
“You asshole.”
Namjoon adjusted his glasses when he opened the front door of his apartment to find Jimin in front of him, eyes narrowed in a tearful glare, body in a sickly state. He was skinnier than Namjoon had ever seen him in his entire life.
“I waited for you.” Jimin pushed his way into the apartment, his voice strong and angry. That early in the morning, Namjoon had no idea what Jimin was going on about. “You know how shitty it was, sitting in the hospital, just waiting for you to show up for me. But you never came.”
Oh.
“Jimin—”
“No, fuck you! I was in the hospital, Namjoon, and what were you doing? Sitting here and reading a fucking book?”
Namjoon rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses and shut the front door, hoping Jimin’s voice didn’t wake anyone in any other units. Or one of his roommates, for that matter. But knowing how loud Jimin was, Namjoon doubted that his roommates wouldn’t be awake.
“You thought a text was enough?” Jimin asked, tone dripping with his disbelief. Namjoon deserved it. He didn’t go back for Jimin even once after he found out that Yoongi was there the whole time. “You didn’t even give me a reason, who does that? Who—who lets their boyfriend be in the hospital for—for—”
“I’m sorry,” Namjoon managed to say, attempting to take a step forward.
“You’re sorry,” Jimin repeated, then tilted his head back with a wet laugh.
Namjoon deserved that, too. He deserved everything Jimin was saying to him.
Jimin stepped forward, jaw clenched. “Tell me,” he said. “Tell me why you didn’t come.”
“Because he was there.” Namjoon hated that his reason was so pathetic, but that was the truth. He wouldn’t lie to Jimin, not about anything, certainly not about this. “Because… of Yoongi.”
“That’s why? Because of—of him?”
“I don’t have another excuse. I don’t want to give you any excuses, Jimin.” Namjoon should have been braver. He should have pushed through the ghosts of his past and seen Jimin, because it wasn’t worth it. He knowingly risked their entire relationship because he was a coward. “I am sorry. I didn’t go see you because Yoongi was there, and I’m sorry.”
Jimin sat down on the couch, holding his knees, whimpering as tears dripped from his eyes. “I wanted you there too, Joonie,” he whispered, voice calmer now. Namjoon took a cautious step closer, placing his hand on Jimin’s shoulder. “I was so, so lonely there. Even with Yoongi, I was lonely. But I know if you were with me, then I wouldn’t have been.”
“What can I do?” Namjoon asked, lowering himself onto his knees in front of Jimin, using his thumb to wipe the tears on Jimin’s cheeks. He could feel his own tears rolling down his face, all the way to his chin, but that mattered so much less than Jimin. “Tell me, Mini, please, what can I do?”
“I don’t know,” Jimin murmured, wiping his face with his sleeve. He reached out and wiped away one of Namjoon’s tears, too. Despite his previous anger, he touched Namjoon with so much love. “I’m so hurt, Joonie. Everything hurts. I hate that everything hurts.”
“Mini…”
“You were supposed to be there.”
Namjoon lowered his head, ashamed. “I know,” he said, lacing his hand with Jimin’s. Even though he was upset, there was some comfort in Jimin holding his hand back. “Please forgive me. Take as long as you need, but please forgive me. I will do anything.”
++
A month later, after Namjoon spent hours with Jimin while he recovered, supporting him however he could, letting Jimin lean on him whenever he needed. Once he showed up for Jimin in ways he couldn’t at the hospital, once he acknowledged that his opinions on Yoongi needed to change. Only then, he was forgiven.
He was forgiven with a soft kiss and the words, “I love you too, Joonie.”
++
On Namjoon and Jimin’s two year anniversary, Jiming asked Namjoon to move in with him.
At the time, they were both still living with their parents since they graduated college, and working two jobs each to rack up enough money to pay for rent in West Hollywood. They had talked about moving in together before, but the time wasn’t right with Jimin still in college, so Namjoon put a hold on it.
Jimin graduated a month early, actually, so the moment he moved back to his parents’ house, they started to look for an apartment. They knew what they wanted; a one bedroom with enough space for entertainment, a dining table, and a decently sized kitchen. It was an ambitious want and most places were trash, but the two of them hunted for that perfect apartment.
Neither of them found it in time, but Jimin found one that was just good enough. It was a little cramped, but it had all the amenities they were looking for. They put down the deposit and moved in as soon as they were allowed to.
It was the first thing that was theirs. Just for Namjoon and Jimin.
++
After Namjoon turned twenty-four, he got his first real, adult job at the local city college as a counselor for international students.
There, he met this kid named Jungkook, who had questions relating to just about anything and everything. He followed Namjoon around campus like a lost puppy. Whenever Jungkook wasn’t following Namjoon around, he would show up at his office at odd times of the day, claiming homesickness.
“Nowhere has good Korean food,” Jungkook would often complain, stretched mournfully across the chair in front of Namjoon’s desk. He was a buff-looking kid, filled out arms, even a whole sleeve of tattoos. But his face was soft; kindness in his eyes, sweetness in his smile. Namjoon liked him enough, and introduced him to Hobi and Taehyung in hopes of someone else taking him on.
Eventually, Jungkook came around so often, saying the same thing, that Namjoon pointed him to Yoongi’s family’s restaurant.
“Look, it’s the best you’ll ever eat in this area. They serve every Korean dish you could think of,” Namjoon said, as he pulled up the address on his phone. Jungkook was seated across from him, his eyes wide with interest. “Take my word for it, okay? Tell them I sent you. My boyfriend even works there sometimes.”
“Okay,” Jungkook said, looking at his phone once Namjoon sent the address off to him. His eyes were glued to his screen, lips pulled between his teeth. “I… will go. Tonight. They are still open.”
Namjoon nodded and smiled encouragingly. “Have fun,” he said, and wondered what Yoongi would think if he knew that it was Namjoon who sent Jungkook his way.
++
It only took a few weeks for Namjoon to have a run in with Yoongi for the first time in eight years.
He was shell-shocked, to be honest. The sight of Yoongi sitting casually on Jungkook’s couch, like he belonged there, was the last thing Namjoon expected when he let himself into the apartment. He didn’t mean to get so heated about it, so defensive. But only words of rage came out of his mouth. With the way he responded, it seemed like Yoongi still held a grudge against him.
“Hey,” Jimin greeted, curled up all tight and cozy in the corner of the couch. “Where are you coming from?”
“Um…” Namjoon frowned, taking off his shoes. He left them by the door and joined Jimin beneath his blanket, laying his body between his legs. It was warm and safe here, with Jimin’s arms now draped over his shoulders. “I had to drop something off at Jungkook’s right? He left his gym bag in my office and he just said to come over, so I did.”
Jimin’s fingers sunk into Namjoon’s hair. “Yeah?” he asked.
“And I saw Yoongi there,” Namjoon added, exhaling nervously. His brain was still rattled from the whole encounter. Jimin didn’t respond for a second, then five once Namjoon counted. “He… was just chilling there, I think he and Jungkook have become close or something. But, I said some things. And he… I don’t know. He doesn’t seem like he has changed, judging by his reaction.”
Jimin still didn’t say anything, so Namjoon lifted his head to check on him. Yoongi wasn’t someone they talked about anymore. It was taboo, almost, because even though Namjoon had forgiven Yoongi in his heart, Jimin always expressed that Yoongi was still hostile towards him. That Yoongi still had issues with Namjoon, despite all the years passed.
“He fucking lied to me,” Jimin muttered, sliding his gaze from Namjoon’s neck to his eyes. “I… he told me he was going out with his friends tonight, the good ones from high school. And you know that I don’t really like messing with everyone else’s friends, not even yours, so I let it slide. He already had plans, that’s not his fault. But—but he lied.”
Namjoon sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said, kissing the center of Jimin’s forehead. “I wonder why.”
“I have no idea.”
++
It was only a matter of time that Yoongi would reach out to him.
After the argument with Jimin at Halloween, Namjoon wasn’t sure how to approach the situation. He could see that this odd feud was finally catching up to Jimin, after countless years of keeping him apart from Yoongi. And as much as Namjoon wanted to do something to help, it wasn’t up to him. That was something that Yoongi needed to do first.
The message came through at 10:03 p.m. on a Friday night. Jimin was on his way to Arizona to visit his aunt and cousins, leaving Namjoon alone in their apartment for the weekend. Namjoon wondered whether that was intentional or not.
Yoongi Min [10:03 p.m.]
hey Joonie, this is Yoongi. i think we have a lot to talk about. get back to me if you want, but i understand if you don't.
Namjoon couldn’t even believe his eyes. The last thing he expected was for Yoongi to message him out of the blue. For Yoongi to take initiative.
Namjoon Kim [10:04 p.m.]
Wooow. How interesting.
Initiative taken by Yoongi Min? Someone get my fucking camera
He didn’t mean to sound so passive aggressive with his message, but that was his instinct. Hopefully Yoongi wouldn’t flip out on him again.
Yoongi Min [10:04 p.m.]
hilarious joonie, really
i’m serious. i really think we should talk about everything.
Namjoon Kim [10:05 p.m.]
No yeah I agree
I’m guessing not over text?
Yoongi Min [10:06 p.m.]
yeah.
and no mini
this isn't about him. this is about us
Namjoon Kim [10:06 p.m.]
Okay fine
Yoongi Min [10:07 p.m.]
are you busy tomorrow morning?
Namjoon Kim [10:09 p.m.]
No I’m not. Mini’s in Arizona with his parents all weekend
Yoongi Min [10:19 p.m.]
right
so coffee?
Namjoon Kim [10:10 p.m.]
Okay
Got a where and when?
Yoongi Min [10:10 p.m.]
whatever’s best for you
Namjoon had to think about it for a while, about where they could meet that wouldn’t be too difficult to get to by bus, and all he could come up with was the Starbucks in the neighborhood Yoongi still lived in.
Namjoon Kim [10:15 p.m.]
Alright. Starbucks is fine with me. 10 a.m. The one on 6th?
Yoongi Min [10:15 p.m.]
okay. that works
The conversation ended there, just like that. He wasn’t sure that it would go well, but Namjoon went to bed with high hopes.
++
Taehyung held a friendsgiving gathering at his house and invited everyone; Hobi, Namjoon, Jimin, Jungkook, Yoongi. Plus someone named Seokjin, who seemed to be getting involved romantically with Taehyung ever since Halloween, but Namjoon still didn’t know much about him. They hadn’t quite had the chance to talk one-on-one, but Jimin said he worked for Yoongi’s parents.
“You sure you’re okay?” Namjoon asked when Jimin parked his car in Taehyung’s driveway, sitting in the stillness once he turned off the car. He knew that Jimin hadn’t quite fixed things with Yoongi yet. “I know that you’re still mad at Yoongi for everything, but… it’s okay, you know? He isn’t a bad person.”
Jimin took a deep breath. “I know, but—” He stopped himself, then sighed with resignation. Namjoon leaned closer and kissed his cheek—he knew that Jimin got into his head a little too often. Sometimes those thoughts never left his brain alone. “Let’s just go, Joonie. I don’t wanna keep everyone waiting.”
Namjoon nodded, and opened the car door to get out. Jimin came over, cradling the bag of pie they picked up from the store on the way over. He placed his arm around Jimin’s waist and smiled, hoping to someone—anyone—that he could ease Jimin’s worries about tonight. The last time they were all together ended in a shitshow, and Namjoon doubted that would happen again, but he knew that was what Jimin feared.
“You look beautiful tonight, by the way,” Namjoon said, hoping to distract him as they walked to the front door. Jimin blushed, and giggled, covering his face with his free hand.
“Shut up, Joonie,” he muttered, elbowing Namjoon in the ribs. All with affection, of course, but that didn’t stop it from hurting like a bitch. “You do too. I like how you did your hair.”
Namjoon leaned down to kiss Jimin, loving the way their lips met the way they always have. With warm affection and unadulterated love. “Thank you,” he mumbled against Jimin’s mouth, pulling away.
“I love you,” Jimin whispered, then paused to straighten out his hair in the reflection of Taehyung’s car window, and continued to walk to the front door.
Where Yoongi stood, smelling awfully like cigarette smoke. His face was exhausted, evidently like he hadn’t gotten any rest recently. Yet, he still forced a smile—he even waved at them. “Everyone else is already here,” Yoongi said as he pushed the front door open, removing his slippers. “We were waiting on you to start eating.”
As soon as Jimin got his shoes off, he shoved Yoongi’s shoulder and muttered, “Whatever,” as he walked past.
Namjoon gave Yoongi a sorry look. The fight between them hadn’t been good for their relationship either, but Namjoon knew that Jimin was ready to forgive Yoongi, even though he had no idea how to approach that. Hopefully that happened tonight.
The evening went smoothly—beautifully, even. Namjoon coaxed Jimin into getting them drinks from the kitchen, and he pretended not to notice when Yoongi got up to follow. When they returned smiling and laughing, Namjoon was grateful that they had fixed their issues.
At least, until he was indoctrinated into doing some Rap God karaoke with Yoongi at the end of the night.
“You can’t forget this shit,” Yoongi said when he offered Namjoon the second microphone, and he was correct.
You can’t forget the shit you did with your best friend, regardless of how long you spent apart. Namjoon couldn’t forget the lyrics of Rap God after spending hours memorizing them with Yoongi as preteen wannabe rappers.
Namjoon totally carried the whole performance.
(But if you asked Yoongi, he’d say that Namjoon was a pretty good hype man, at best. Not that you should believe anything Yoongi says.)
++
“You gonna marry him?” Yoongi asked, on a quiet morning after a night of partying to celebrate Seokjin’s birthday.
Namjoon smiled, and thought, yes, I’m going to marry him.
++
The plan was to propose to him in the snow.
It was going well, as far as Namjoon could tell. He felt guilty that Jimin was the one driving them up north, but even after all these years, he still hadn’t gotten his license. Jimin didn’t seem to mind so much, though—he let Namjoon control the music and rambled on about how excited he was for their little vacation.
Their trip wasn’t as impromptu as Namjoon suggested it was. He only told Jimin that they should go about two weeks ago, but in reality, this had been in the works for the last couple of months. He and Jimin had talked about marriage before and, well, they wanted that. They both felt bonded by their love, and Namjoon knew that a future together was something they both wanted.
Maybe they wouldn’t start a family immediately. That was something they both wanted, too, but they agreed they needed more stability and time to decide they were ready. Namjoon’s chest got tight, filled to the brim with affection, whenever he thought about them becoming a married couple with one or two children. He never really wanted that so badly until he realized a future with Jimin was possible.
“We made it,” Jimin cheered half-heartedly when he finally shifted the gear into park outside the house Namjoon rented. He tilted his head against the car seat headrest and groaned, body arched in a stretch. “You owe me a back massage. My lower back is killing me.”
“You did great, Mini,” Namjoon murmured, leaning across the console to kiss him on the cheek. He dropped his head to rest on Jimin’s shoulder, his hand finding one of Jimin’s. “Don’t worry about unpacking the car or anything, I’ll do that. You just… go inside and get acquainted with the space.”
Jimin sighed, squeezing Namjoon’s hand. “Mkay. I’m just glad we don’t have to cook. Yoongi’s mom is such a godsend,” he said, turning his head to kiss the top of Namjoon’s forehead. Something in Namjoon’s heart did a little flip, even after they’ve been together for so long. Even at something as simple as a forehead kiss.
To be honest, Namjoon was pretty drained from the drive down too. He didn’t want to sleep because he knew that without company, Jimin could get distracted from the road if he started to get too tired. They functioned off of caffeine the entire drive up, and Namjoon was the one who put the snow chains on the tires once they were actually in the snow.
But, regardless, he sent Jimin inside to rest and brought all their bags inside the house, plus the huge cooler full of food and ingredients courtesy of Yoongi’s mom. When Namjoon told her about what he was doing over their trip, she was so excited for them that she prepared food for part of the trip. She insisted that she wanted to and that they deserved a break. Namjoon was beyond touched.
“Okay, that’s everything,” Namjoon said when he finally unloaded the car, finding Jimin face down on the couch, lying still. He shed his coat and found the heater, turning it up before joining Jimin on the couch. “You hungry?”
Jimin turned his head and pouted. “Yes,” he muttered, “for kisses.”
Namjoon shook his head and kissed Jimin for a moment. “And for food?” he asked, pressing his fingers into Jimin’s ribs until he laughed. “You can’t not be hungry.”
“Joonie!” Jimin whined, kicking his feet like a child, hands latching onto Namjoon’s to try and stop the tickling. But Namjoon wouldn’t let him win so easily. “Please, I do—I do want food, come on!”
“Okay, okay,” Namjoon said, sliding his hands up to Jimin’s shoulders, pinning him in place to kiss him again. Kissing Jimin never got old. “What do you want?”
Jimin shrugged. “Whatever you do,” he said, and rolled over to bury his head into the couch pillow.
The first part of their trip was spent like this; wrapped up in each other on the couch, exchanging kisses, watching Christmas movies. A couple nights were spent in bed together, but that wasn’t a priority of the trip. Having sex was never a priority for either of them. They were both always more focused on the romantic and emotional aspect of their relationship.
Namjoon had the morning planned out the day he asked Jimin.
They went to breakfast at a spot downtown, and walked along the frozen lake to admire the sight with the surrounding mountains. Jimin cooed over the line of ducks he saw and took about fifty different pictures of Namjoon crouched beside them, trying to pet one of the babies. For what it was worth, Namjoon did end up posting one of the fifty pictures upon Jimin’s request.
When they got back to the rental house, Namjoon’s nerves kicked in. He made them hot chocolate while Jimin sat on the patio, cozied up with a scarf wrapped to cover half his face, hands gloved and warm. He was just watching the snow, peaceful and content.
It was perfect, Namjoon thought. He knew that he made the right choice to ask Jimin here, in this moment, where it was just them.
“Hot chocolate,” Namjoon said, placing both mugs on the table, careful to avoid letting the marshmallows bob out.
Jimin’s eyes lit up like the moon and stars all at once. “Joonie,” he mumbled, glancing up, then at the mugs. He pouted, and scrunched up his nose. “You always do super nice things for me.”
“Well…” Namjoon clenched his hands as they shook. He had to get his rehearsed speech out, at the very least. There were things he wrote down that he struggled to say out loud to Jimin sometimes. “You know that I love you, right?”
Jimin smiled, puzzlement evident in his eyes. “Of course I know that.”
Namjoon held his fists tighter, and Jimin noticed immediately. Of course he would, Jimin notices everything. The slightest shifts in Namjoon’s behavior set off alarms in Jimin’s head. It was a miracle that Namjoon managed to get through the past week without alerting him of what he was going to ask.
“Hey, why’re you getting all worked up?” Jimin asked, taking Namjoon’s cold hands into his gloved ones, worried look in his eyes. “Joonie, hey, look at me. It’s just me, just Mini.”
“I know,” Namjoon replied, and felt like he was nineteen again, telling Jimin he liked him in the suffocating walls of his childhood bedroom. This was so different, yet so similar. All the feelings he had for Jimin came rushing back to the surface, consuming his entire being. “You make me nervous sometimes.”
Jimin laughed, cheeks flushed the prettiest red. “And why’s that?” he asked, although the look in his eyes said that he very much knew why.
“I’ve loved you for a long time, Jimin,” Namjoon said, forcing out a laugh. He couldn’t tell if his anxiety was heightened or calmed by Jimin holding his hands, but he tried his best to push through regardless. “For… eight years, to be exact. And we’ve been together for the majority of that time. Something I never thought was possible.”
Something passed over Jimin’s expression, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. He caught onto the whole thing quicker than Namjoon expected him to.
“We’ve been through some tough shit together, for as long as we’ve known each other,” Namjoon continued, pushing himself down to his weak knees. Jimin followed the movement with his eyes, the tears sliding down his cheeks. “And I know that we’re still young and that we have a lot of things we need to figure out. Just, our lives and careers and deciding whether we want to stay in L.A. County or not. All that stuff we’ve talked about.”
Jimin nodded his head, and kept his hands clasped around Namjoon’s.
“But after all these years, Mini, I really want more with you. I love you like I’ve never loved someone before. Your smile, and your eyes—”
“You’re so cheesy,” Jimin muttered, with a wet laugh.
Namjoon tried to smile and continued, “Your—your laugh, and your heart and your kindness. And—and, shit—” He stopped, choking on his next words. He let Jimin cradle his face, wipe his tears. Namjoon fumbled for the ring in his jacket pocket, grasping it in his fist before bringing it to Jimin's face. “I love you so much. So much, Jimin Park, so—so… will you marry me?”
Jimin pulled his lips into his mouth and nodded immediately. “Yeah, Joonie,” he whispered between them, letting go of Namjoon’s face to pull off his gloves. Relief flooded Namjoon, wiping his face with his sleeve so he could actually see when he slid the ring on Jimin’s delicate hand. “I love you, too, Joonie.”
Namjoon welcomed Jimin into his arms. This feeling of safety wrapped around him, tighter than ever.
“I’ll love you forever,” Jimin whispered into Namjoon’s ear, as they held each other on the patio floor. “I love your big heart and your smile and eyes, and all the little thoughts in that big brain of yours. How you—you’re so conscious about everything that you do, even if you mess up sometimes, it’s okay. Because you’re always there, supporting me. You are the best person I could ever ask to love.”
Namjoon closed his eyes and held Jimin tighter.
There was nothing in the world he wanted more than Jimin. And now that he had him, there wasn’t a chance he would let him go.