Chapter Text
Vee is in all green tonight. A flowy silk gown with a deep v-cut that showcases the tiny specks of glitter sparkling on their chest, a slit down their left leg, gold strappy heels and honey blonde hair curling on their shoulders. The dark, mossy green color looks gorgeous against their tanner skin. Namjoon doesn’t think they’ve ever looked more beautiful. Though that is what he thinks every single night Vee twirls on stage.
Seeing Vee perform is a privilege Namjoon hadn’t expected to appreciate when he started working at the club a few months ago. It certainly wasn’t listed in the job description. If it had been, Namjoon wouldn’t have hesitated to apply like he did. He also would’ve been more prepared and maybe the tequila bottle he dropped on that shift would still be intact.
Vee is performing a song Namjoon can’t recognize. Later, when Namjoon will tell him as much, They will tease him about it and add it to the ever-growing playlist of queer club classics Namjoon has to know if he wants to work here. Their words not Namjoon’s.
Tonight, it’s another female lead pop-song, something that Namjoon has learned is a drag queens' bread and butter. But Vee loves their rock, jazz and spoken word pieces just as much as they love their basic pop songs. That’s one of the things Namjoon loves about their performances. You never know what to expect and if you make the mistake of expecting something, Vee will surely surprise.
“Can you stop waxing poetic in your head and focus on your job? I promise you Tae won’t be upset if you’re not watching their every move.”
Yoongi’s words register in Namjoon’s brain, but Vee has just dipped on stage and is now crawling towards a customer waving a wad of won notes in their face. For a few lines, Vee performs for that customer and that customer only. Their eyes are locked on them, playful yet so sultry it has the hairs on Namjoon’s arms rise and he’s not even the one subject to it.
“Christ,” Yoongi mutters and taps Namjoon’s temple with the butt of a mixing spoon to try gaining his attention. It doesn’t work. Namjoon feels medusa herself has cast a spell on him, “Be glad Seokjin is so enamored with you that he won’t give you the boot even if you tried to get fired.”
“Shush Yoongi. Watching Joon gay panic is the highlight of my week,” Seokjin says from somewhere on his left. Namjoon doesn’t look around to confirm his location, “This is prime entertainment.”
“You know what’s prime entertainment? Me showing an entire vodka bottle up your ass if you keep encouraging this.”
“Kinky.”
“You’re a terrible boss.”
“Aw, thank you!”
If their bickering continues, Namjoon doesn’t hear because Vee is reaching the end of the song, and he doesn’t want to miss a single twirl or body wave or wink.
The beat slows down and Vee’s body moves with it like there’s an invisible string connecting their limbs to the speakers. The green and blue lights that were blinking earlier are now still and lighting up Vee’s silhouette in a way that Namjoon can only describe as art.
Taehyung is living art.
As the final notes play out, a slow smirk rises in Vee’s sparkling lips. There’s cheers and hollers and snaps that are so loud Namjoon wouldn’t be surprised if the volume could make the walls fall around them. They basks in it until the speed of their rising and falling chest calms down. Then they are gone from the stage, so fast that if one were to blink at the wrong time, they might believe Vee has simply dissolved into the smoke.
A rare blanket of silence nestles down on the entire club as everyone comes down from the absolute high Vee’s performance has left with them. Then the familiar beginning notes of It’s Raining Men starts booming from the speakers and everyone goes back to losing their bodies in the mass of others. Everyone except Namjoon.
Someone’s hand finds its place on Namjoon’s shoulder and soon Seokjin is guiding his body so they’re facing each other. “Okay Loverboy show’s over. Back to work, yeah? The final hours are upon us.”
Namjoon nods, still feeling a little dazed. Yoongi sighs, hands him a shaker and nods towards a customer that Namjoon hopes hasn’t been waiting for their turn ever since Taehyung stepped on stage. Judging by their annoyed expression, Namjoon’s hopes are in vain. The daquiri they order is only more proof of that. Namjoon fucking hates making daquiris.
✧✦✧
“Hey Joonie! Can I get a strawberry daquiri?”
On instinct, a sigh threatens to escape Namjoon’s throat, but then there’s Taehyung’s eyes and smile and remains of glitter sparkling on his make-up free cheeks. There’s Taehyung in his choice of out of drag clothes that has Namjoon’s throat closing completely.
Taehyung is in all black tonight. A sleeveless leather crop top, loose pants with silver chains hanging off belt loops, a thinner, sparklier chain around his defined waist. His overgrown dark brown hair is a mess, but he makes it look intentional. Free.
“Yeah, of course.” Namjoon’s words tumble out of him. Maybe he doesn’t hate making daquiris if it’s for Taehyung. Maybe he would do anything if it was Taehyung asking him.
If it was up to Namjoon, he’d skip the blender and simply use strawberry syrup instead. But it’s not up to Namjoon and Yoongi is a stickler for having the best quality drinks so Namjoon pulls out fresh strawberries from the fridge.
He’s entirely too aware of the fact that Taehyung’s eyes are locked on him as he pours the berries, ice and rum into the blender. Entirely too aware that Taehyung’s body is swaying to the music, purple and pink lights painting his skin.
“Good job tonight, by the way,” Namjoon yells over the music and the whirling of the blender. It’s a wonder Taehyung hears him.
Taehyung smiles. “Did you know the song this time?”
Namjoon stops the blender and goes to grab a glass from the shelf, takes his time pouring the drink into it. He doesn’t need to ask if Taehyung wants a straw, automatically dipping it inside.
When he sets the drink next to Taehyung’s arm, Taehyung quirks brow. Namjoon huffs out a laugh. “You’re gonna have to help me with that one.”
“I’m starting to think you’re a lost cause,” Taehyung says. Namjoon doesn’t miss the glimpse of a small smile before Taehyung brings the straw to his mouth. “Supernova by Kylie Minogue. I’ll add it to the list.”
Namjoon turns his head as a customer approaches the bar swaying on their feet. Last drink of the night, Namjoon muses. He turns back to Taehyung. “Work calls.”
Taehyung pouts. “Boring.”
After Namjoon reluctantly leaves Taehyung’s company, he makes a gin and tonic for the person swaying, then a vodka cranberry to a person with glazed over eyes. Suddenly, as he last call time approaches, Namjoon is swamped with orders. Every time he turns back to look, he finds Taehyung still sitting in the same spot, lips wrapped around his straw as he absentmindedly scrolls through his phone. It’s almost like he is waiting for Namjoon to return to him, but it’s probably just Namjoon’s wishful thinking.
The last call lights blink once, twice. Namjoon takes a deep breath for the first time in half an hour and glances over to see Taehyung staring right back as he laughs.
“Tough one?” Taehyung asks and pockets his phone.
Namjoon nods as he takes a few empty glasses and bottles from the counter. “I need a week’s long hibernation. I’ve made more drinks in the past half an hour than I have for the entirety of this shift.”
“Damn.” Taehyung laughs again and then sips the rest of his drink. He pushes the glass towards Namjoon. “A week’s hibernation sounds good.”
Namjoon turns around and starts piling the glasses into the washer. “Hm.”
“Have you ever considered a buzzcut, Namjoon? I think it would suit you.”
Namjoon whips around so fast he almost knocks into Yoongi who's carrying a tray of glasses. By now it’s happened so many times, Yoongi doesn’t even flinch and continues his way. He does give Namjoon a glare, though. Namjoon blames that for the shivers running through his spine and not the fact that Taehyung just told him a buzzcut would suit him.
“Uh...No, I haven’t.”
Taehyung squints his eyes like he’s imagining it and nods to himself. “Think about it.”
Then Taehyung’s standing up to leave. Namjoon’s too dazed to say anything else as Taehyung disappears into the crowd of people giving their all to the sound of Born This Way. It’s one of the songs Namjoon knew before he started working here. Taehyung was proud.
“Tae just said I’d look good with a buzzcut,” Namjoon says as Yoongi walks past him again, “Should I cut off my hair?”
“You’re ridiculous.”
✧✦✧
The first time Namjoon seen Taehyung, he had been wearing a sleeveless top covered in red sequins. All the people around him had been dressed in all the colors of the rainbow, but somehow Taehyung was the only one who stood out. The top made him appear as a disco ball as he twirled in the crowd. Bright and shining and beautiful.
Namjoon isn’t one to fall for people easily. Sure, he’s seen people in clubs or on the street or at school and work who he’s found attractive, and he’s dated more people than he can count on one hand. But he’s never quite looked at another person, a stranger, that has made his heart latch on instantly before he saw Taehyung that night.
Back then, he hadn’t even known Taehyung was one of the in-house drag performers of the club. Imagine his surprise when Vee stepped on stage the next night and Seokjin had told him it was the guy in the red sequins Namjoon had been drooling over. Seokjin’s words, not Namjoon’s.
Later that night, when Taehyung had changed out of drag and showed up in front of Namjoon for a drink, Namjoon had barely gotten a word out.
“Hey, you’re the new guy! Namjoon, right?” Taehyung had asked, all bright eyed and glitter cheeked and all Namjoon could do was nod, “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Taehyung. Could I get a strawberry mojito?”
Wordlessly Namjoon had nodded and gotten to work immediately. He was still clumsy with his bartending, the only real experience he had was from shitty college parties in his early teens. He was lucky Yoongi had put in a word for him.
Taehyung could see it too, his eyes following Namjoon’s every move while an amused smirk lifted his lips. “How did you end up here, Namjoon?”
“Uh, I quit my job and Yoongi suggested I come here,” Namjoon explained, trying to focus on pouring a shot of vodka into the glass without spilling it, “I’ve known him since college. I was roommates with one of his partners.”
“Oh, Hobi or Jimin?”
“Hobi.”
“That’s cool. He helps with designing a lot of my outfits.” Taehyung grinned, all wide so the corners of his eyes crinkled, and his pearly white teeth glinted in the flashing lights. “It’s honestly a little weird we haven’t met before if you’re friends with Yoongi and Hobi.”
“Ah,” Namjoon sighed, avoiding eye contact, “I didn’t go out a lot after graduation. Didn’t really have the energy for it.”
“I get it,” Taehyung said, “What did you study in college?”
“Business,” Namjoon said and Taehyung’s eyes went wide, “Yeah, I know. My parents wanted it and I was dumb enough to listen. But I didn’t really have anything else I wanted to study so.” Namjoon shrugs. “Ended up working a corporate job for a few years and it pretty much sucked my soul out so here I am.”
Taehyung nodded slowly as he followed Namjoon’s clumsy movements. “Good for you, honestly. Pretty much everyone here has a similar story. No one, except maybe Jin, planned to end up here. It’s our own little family, though.”
“Yeah, that’s the vibe I’ve gotten,” Namjoon said, doing his best to match the soft smile Taehyung was wearing, “How did you end up here, then?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I have time.”
“Do you really?”
“For now, yeah.” Namjoon nodded towards Yoongi who was getting swamped with orders. “The regulars don’t trust me yet and neither does Yoongi for that matter. And besides, Seokjin told me to take it easy during the first week.”
Taehyung looked towards Yoongi too, considered Namjoon’s words for a few seconds then returned to Namjoon with a newfound glint in his eyes. “Alright.”
It was a long story. Taehyung told him about how he grew up in the countryside of Daegu, how he moved to Seoul at age 17 to run after his dream of becoming an idol. How those dreams were quickly crushed a year later because the company he had become a trainee for threw him to the curb when they caught Taehyung and another trainee kissing. Apparently, he was too old to debut anyway. At least that’s what they dressed it up as.
“That night, instead of going back home like my parents wanted me to, I ended up in a queer club. There was a drag show and it was the first time I’ve ever seen anything like it.”
Taehyung kept smiling as he talked. Namjoon was utterly charmed.
“I met Jimin that night too. They had just moved into the city for college and had an empty spot on their crappy couch for me to fill. Then we started doing drag together. Eventually Jimin met Hoseok and Yoongi, started dating pretty much immediately. You know that story already.”
Namjoon didn’t. The part of Hoseok’s and Yoongi’s life when they met Jimin was a mystery to Namjoon. By that time, Namjoon had already distanced himself from everyone, was far too gone to crawl back.
If it wasn’t for Hoseok and Yoongi drunk texting him out of the blue, them inviting him for drinks like old friends do, Namjoon would’ve never ended up here.
It made him wonder if things would have been different had he stayed in contact. Would he have ended up here sooner? Would the burn out and depression still have come if he had? Would he have met Taehyung earlier?
“Anyway, Seokjin opened the club with Yoongi’s help and ended up hiring Jimin who ended up dragging me along too and now I’m here!” Taehyung said and emptied the rest of the drink Namjoon had made him. “This was good by the way.”
Namjoon quirked an eyebrow. “You’re not just saying that cause you want to make me feel better?”
“Nah, I’d never lie,” Taehyung said and pulled the straw out of his glass in so he could chug down a few ice cubes and after crunching them up, Taehyung winked, “I’ll put in a good word for you with the regulars.”
Taehyung kept up his promise too, because the next night, Namjoon had his own line of customers. Yoongi was baffled, but Namjoon could also physically see the weight lifted off his shoulders.
After that night, Taehyung ordered his drinks only from Namjoon. Always some sugary, strawberry flavor to hide the taste of alcohol and sometimes he even ordered a completely alcohol-free version. Taehyung never forgot to compliment Namjoon’s work to the point where Namjoon started to think he was joking. Still, Taehyung always came back.
And maybe Namjoon felt a little too proud of that fact.
✧✦✧
Namjoon gets caught in the downpour of the first autumn rainstorm, because of course he does. He also forgets his umbrella, though he couldn’t hold it up anyway due the bike he has mistakenly chosen to ride. It’s truly a wonder he makes it to the club without slipping and cracking his head open.
He unlocks the club’s staff door and steps inside, drenched and cold and regretting his life choices. Until Taehyung pokes his head out of his dressing room. He has on a pink robe, his make-up halfway done and hair pulled away from his forehead by a forest green headband.
They stare at each other silently for a moment, Namjoon too caught off guard to get any words out, as a faintly familiar song blares from inside the dressing room.
“Fever by Adam Lambert?” Namjoon asks, sees the moment Taehyung snaps out of whatever daze he was in, “Right?”
“Yes!” Taehyung nods enthusiastically and almost loses balance on his chair . “But why are you just standing there? Get in, I’ll find you some dry clothes.”
Taehyung’s dressing room is a mish-mosh of all the colors of the rainbow in every single fabric that has ever been invented. It should be a mess, but for some reason Namjoon thinks it’s kind of cozy.
The space is small, but somehow Taehyung has managed to fit in a plush red velvet loveseat with a heart shaped backrest and a vanity with a huge mirror framed with lightbulbs. The walls are covered in posters of queer artists and movies and pictures of Taehyung with his friends. On the floor is a Persian rug in various shades of orange and yellow, but it’s mostly covered by fallen clothes.
Standing and shivering awkwardly outside of the threshold, Namjoon watches as Taehyung rummages through the walk-in-closet that is bursting and spreading all over the room. Every once in a while, Taehyung will stop, pull out a piece of clothing and hold it up as he looks Namjoon from head to toe.
After the song has changed twice and Taehyung’s still looking for something to dress Namjoon up in, Namjoon clears his throat. “Anything is fine, really. Doesn’t have to be fancy.”
“Oh, honey. I’ll never live it down if I send you out there in like plain t-shirt and sweatpants,” Taehyung mutters and while Namjoon’s mind is reeling from the sudden pet-name, Taehyung whips his head towards Namjoon so fast it’s a wonder if he doesn’t feel dizzy, “I mean, unless that’s what you want! I don’t want to put you in anything you feel uncomfortable with. I have plain shirts and sweatpants too if you want them.”
Maybe it’s the off handed honey or the way Taehyung is looking at Namjoon so tenderly, but Namjoon shakes his head. “No, dress me up how you think would look good. I- I trust you.”
“Really?” Taehyung’s eyebrows raise as much as they can while being covered in what must be at least five layers of glue and powder. “Are you sure?”
Namjoon smiles, wills the nervous bug in his chest to calm down. “Yeah, of course.”
“Okay, but I want you to say if anything feels uncomfortable. No questions asked.”
“Okay.”
“Cool,” Taehyung says and suddenly he’s looking at Namjoon like he is a completely different person. Namjoon wonders what Taehyung sees, if he sees something Namjoon doesn’t, “How do you feel about crop tops?”
“I’m ready to find out.”
And that’s how Namjoon ends up sitting on the loveseat dressed in a tight-fitting black crop top with a star shaped cutout on his chest and ripped jeans that are probably loose on Taehyung but not so much on Namjoon and his thicker thighs.
Taehyung had made quick work of finding the clothes, didn’t forget to ask Namjoon how he feels about the pieces. There had only been a few seconds of awkwardness when Namjoon had to strip out of his wet clothes and wrap himself in a towel to dry before getting dressed. Really, Taehyung hadn’t even seemed that affected, but Namjoon can’t say the same about himself. It’s been a while since he last got naked in front of someone else.
Now Taehyung is away putting the wet clothes into the dryer, leaving Namjoon to twiddle his thumbs on the loveseat. Namjoon had insisted to take the clothes himself, but Taehyung had insisted harder, telling Namjoon to change while he’s away.
After changing, Namjoon had stared at himself in the mirror for a moment, looking at the outfit from every angle. He didn’t know how he felt about crop-tops before this, never having worn one before, but now?
“How are you feeling?” Taehyung asks as he peaks his head inside the room again and Namjoon stands up from the couch so quickly that Taehyung laughs. He’s holding a hand in front of his eyes in case Namjoon was still not dressed. Though he is not so subtly peeking through his middle and ring finger.
Namjoon looks away from Taehyung to stare at himself in the mirror again. The outfit looks good, feels good too. The jeans hug his thighs and the crop-top cuts well above his bellybutton. Namjoon isn’t insecure by any means; that’s one of the only things he has grown out of since leaving high school. Still, dressed like this, Namjoon feels a little shy.
Maybe it’s simply because it’s a new style or maybe it’s because Taehyung has finally taken the hand away from his eyes and is now looking at Namjoon with sparkling eyes, that Namjoon sees his cheeks blushing slightly.
“Come on, say something. You’re making me nervous,” Taehyung says, walking inside the room and coming to stand right next to Namjoon so that their elbows brush.
It’s a light, most likely unintentional touch that doesn’t mean anything, but it’s still bare skin on bare skin and Namjoon’s so incredibly whipped that any touch with Taehyung feels like fire is licking over his skin.
Taehyung’s looking at Namjoon through the mirror now and somehow that makes it easier for Namjoon to say, “I really like it.”
“You sure? You don’t look that happy.” Taehyung’s hands go into hiding in the pockets of his robe and for the first time, Taehyung looks unsure. “You can change if you want to, I won’t take offence. And if you’re worried about time, I told Yoongi I’m helping you, so it’s fine if you’re not there at opening. I switched performing spots with Min so I’m in no hurry either.”
“No, I really like it, Taehyung. I feel good. Thank you.” Namjoon shakes his head, smiles at himself in mirror so that dimples show up on his cheeks. “What do you think, though?”
“Well, not that my opinion really matters as long as you feel good, but I think you look amazing,” Taehyung says and Namjoon knows it’s not a romantic compliment but more pink still blooms on his skin, “I think some accessories would really bring the look together, though.”
“You’re the master,” Namjoon says, walking on thin ice as he nudges Taehyung’s elbow with his own, “I trust you.”
Taehyung pulls out silver star earrings that dangle against Namjoon’s neck, a necklace with a moon pendant that perfectly fits in the middle of the star cutout on the top and a chain that wraps around Namjoon’s waist. Namjoon tries to not think too much about how it’s the same chain that Taehyung was wearing a few nights ago or how Taehyung’s warm fingers feel against the bare skin of his lower back as he twiddles with the clasp.
“There!” Taehyung says with a clap of his hands. “Now, it’s perfect.”
Namjoon turns around to face the mirror again. Taehyung was right, the accessories really do pull the look together. Namjoon likes how the silvers glimmer in the lights as he moves, likes the way Taehyung is looking at him.
The outfit is perfect, yet when Namjoon looks at his face compared to the shine of everything else, it looks like something is missing.
Before he can gather his thoughts more, Namjoon blurts out, “Would glitter look good?”
“Oh?” Taehyung’s not looking at Namjoon through the mirror anymore. His eyes are glued right onto Namjoon’s cheeks. It makes everything about this feel more real. “Where are you thinking?”
“On my face.”
“Like...makeup?”
Namjoon considers the suggestion for a minute, studying Taehyung’s face like it’s a painting in the Louvre. His eyeliner is thick over the blue and purple shimmering on his lids, matching the blush and highlighter on his cheekbones. Beautiful.
“Yeah, like makeup,” Namjoon whispers, “Nothing too crazy, though. Maybe just some shimmer here and there.”
With the way Taehyung is looking at him up close like this, Namjoon doesn’t know how long he’ll last without saying all the words that have been floating around inside his brain for months. He has to bite down on his cheek to not say them out loud. Not yet.
“I can do that,” Taehyung says, expression soft for only a moment before it morphs into something edging on playful, “But I’ll have to get a lot closer to you if I do.”
Namjoon frowns. “Closer how?”
“Your lap.”
“Huh?”
Taehyung’s laughing, deep in his chest and so loud it washes out the music. “It’s the way I prefer to work on someone else's makeup. Easiest way to get close to someone’s face.”
This is crazy, Namjoon’s brain yells at him, but all that comes out of Namjoon’s mouth is, “Uh, okay! Sure! That’s fine with me.”
After hearing those words, Taehyung looks like a kid in an ice cream shop. Namjoon doesn’t regret forgetting his umbrella anymore. Not one bit. He thinks he should start forgetting it all the time, better yet throw it in the trash.
“Sit down on the couch. I’ll get my kit,” Taehyung instructs and goes to the vanity to rummage through the drawers.
Namjoon does as told and sits down on his hands so he doesn’t fidget with the rips in his jeans and accidentally make them bigger than they’re supposed to be. He’s sure Taehyung wouldn’t appreciate that. He seems to do everything down to the smallest details like what sized rips he has in his jeans.
Taehyung turns back around, a palate and a small makeup bag in his hands and he immediately burst out laughing as soon as he sees Namjoon. “Can you try to look like I’m not forcing you to do this?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry,” Namjoon mumbles and tries to relax his muscles. He pulls his hands from under his thighs and places them behind so he can lean on them instead.
Shaking his head, Taehyung smiles like he is on some secret Namjoon is not privy to. “Don’t worry, you’re not my first drag baby. I know what I’m doing.”
Namjoon watches dumbly as Taehyung dumps the makeup bag on the couch, opens the palate and brings it close to Namjoon’s face. As a thoughtful expression appears on Taehyung’s face, Namjoon realizes just how out of his dept he is in this room. He knows nothing of makeup, nothing of drag.
“Is what you’re doing to me even considered as drag?” Namjoon asks and realizes how dumb the question must be as soon as Taehyung frowns, “I mean, it’s just a bit of glitter, right?”
The way Taehyung looks down at Namjoon reminds him a little of how his teachers used to look at him when he asked a question, he probably knew the answer of already. Taehyung’s eyes are not as conceding, though. Gentle. Taehyung’s been so gentle with Namjoon this whole time.
“Drag is what you want it to be, Joon,” Taehyung says softly, reaching for Namjoon’s hand so he can place the palate in it, “There’s really no rules in this. Everyone does it differently, defines it differently too. But it’s not rocket science, so try not to think about it too hard, yeah? You decide if this is drag or not.”
Looking down at the palate, Namjoon nods. In small circle pans are eyeshadow shades that go from red to purple to black and gold and silver. As he moves the board to the side, all the shades shimmer against the light. These are what Taehyung must use to make him appear glowing under the everchanging club lights. Or maybe these just add to Taehyung’s natural glow.
“Pick a color. Whatever you’d like,” Taehyung says, taking a step forward so his knees are pressed against Namjoon’s, “And if you end up hating it, there’s always makeup wipes.”
Namjoon drags his thumb over the edges of the palette, careful not to touch the shadows to not smudge them. Like on instinct, Namjoon’s thumb stops at a row of different shades of blue. “I like these.”
“The blues? That sounds lovely,” Taehyung says, leaning over so the bottom half of his face joins Namjoon in the small mirror on the inner cover, “Any specific shade?”
“The indigo is nice.” Namjoon points at the tin of shimmery indigo, then moves on to a lighter shade that has silver tint to it, “I like this one too.”
Taehyung hums, clearly pleased by Namjoon’s choices. “We can do both.”
With a clap of his hands, Taehyung reaches for the makeup bag and zips it open. From it, he takes a few different sized and shaped makeup brushes, puts them in the pocket of his robe and drops the bag back on the couch. Then all his focus is back on Namjoon as he spreads his legs just enough that Namjoon’s are in between his.
“Can I?” Taehyung asks quietly, wiggles his hips, but doesn’t sit down yet. Namjoon appreciates the question because at least he has a few seconds to prepare to have an entire, beautiful Taehyung in his lap for the next however long it takes for Taehyung to put some glitter on his face.
It shouldn’t take long, right? Namjoon can do this. It doesn’t mean anything. At least not what Namjoon would like it to mean. It’s just a friend helping another one out. No big deal.
“Go ahead,” Namjoon says, pulls his wobbly feeling legs together so they’re stuck like glue.
Taehyung waits for a beat, eyes roaming all over Namjoon’s face. Throat suddenly feeling entirely too dry, Namjoon swallows nervously. He’s never been this close to Taehyung before. It’s not just the makeup that Namjoon is out of his dept with. It’s Taehyung too. He’s so deep in the unknown that he might be drowning.
When Taehyung finally plops himself down on Namjoon’s lap, Namjoon realizes just how stupid he had been. How could he have even thought he could prepare himself for this?
Entire weight on Namjoon’s thighs, Taehyung wiggles around for a second before seemingly finding a comfortable position. Namjoon’s simply trying to remind his lungs that he needs to breathing is indeed necessary for living.
“Comfortable?” Taehyung asks, “You can tell me if I’m too heavy. I promise I won’t be offended.”
Namjoon shakes his head, fights the urge to place his hands on Taehyung’s slim waist. “It’s fine. I go to the gym often enough that this is nothing.”
“Oh?” Taehyung quirks a brow as he tilts his head to the side. Then he wiggles again, and hums. “Right. I can tell.”
What the hell is Namjoon supposed to do with that?
Namjoon laughs awkwardly. “We should probably get started, right? Yoongi will literally kick my ass if I leave him alone for too long.”
“Yoonie? You could snap him like a twig.”
“Did you see him drag out that one guy who was being a little too handsy with people without consent a few nights ago?”
“Fair point.” Taehyung chuckles and carefully takes the palate from Namjoon’s hand. “So, indigo and silvery blue?” Taehyung asks as confirmation and waits for Namjoon to nod, “Close your eyes for me.”
Namjoon nearly blurts out that he would do anything Taehyung asks him to but bites his tongue just in time and instead squeezes his eyes shut. He opens them again when Taehyung laughs. “What?”
“Not like that. Just be natural like you’re going to sleep,” Taehyung says, and Namjoon wouldn’t need to see the smile to hear it in Taehyung’s voice. Namjoon takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again like Taehyung instructed him to. “Good.”
Maybe Namjoon has a hidden praise kink because hearing that simple word come out of Taehyung’s mouth with his deep drawl of a voice has the hairs in his arms rising. Yeah, he’d definitely do anything Taehyung asked him to if that’s the reaction he’d get out of him. The thought should probably be scary, unsafe if it was someone else. But it’s Taehyung. And though Namjoon doesn’t know Taehyung outside of their little perfect bubble at the club, Namjoon feels safe in Taehyung’s gentle hands.
With his eyes closed, it’s hard to focus on anything but the fact that Taehyung is currently sitting in his lap. There are a few sounds though, some taps and Taehyung’s low humming to the song currently playing. Namjoon doesn’t recognize this one, a slower pop song that would probably play at the end of their club nights.
Before Namjoon can ask for the name of the song, Taehyung’s hand is tilting his chin up.
“Here we go,” Taehyung says and then there’s another hand resting on his cheek and Namjoon hopes that Taehyung can’t feel how warm they are.
As Taehyung gently presses and swipes the makeup brush over Namjoon’s closed lid, Namjoon nearly opens them on instinct. “Oh, that feels a bit weird.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Taehyung says, amusement in his tone, “But do tell me if you want me to stop and I will. No questions asked.”
“Okay.”
After a few minutes, he starts getting used to the touch of the brush. Or maybe it’s just Taehyung’s touch on his skin that he is getting used to. Either way, Namjoon lets himself relax and enjoy the moment for as long as it lasts.
At some point, Taehyung tells him to stop sitting so straight and lean his back against the couch instead and that’s how Namjoon ends up melting into the back cushions. Though it’s more comfortable for Namjoon, it also forces Taehyung to slide further down his thighs so they’re basically sitting crotch to crotch. If Taehyung is affected by it, he doesn’t show it.
“How many times have you done this?” Namjoon asks once Taehyung has finished with his left eye and moved on to the right.
“Too many times to count,” Taehyung says, removes the hand on Namjoon’s cheek only for a moment before returning it back to its spot, “Sometimes doing makeup on other people is more fun than doing it on myself. It’s like a new blank canvas, which you’re perfect for by the way. Perfect bone structure for stuff like this.”
Namjoon nearly chokes on his own spit but forces himself to stay still to not ruin Taehyung’s work. Some muscle on his face must twitch though, since Taehyung tsks, lightly slaps his shoulder and reminds him to be still.
“Sorry,” Namjoon mumbles and relaxes back into the cushions, “This is actually relaxing in a weird way. Never thought I’d like someone poking my eyelids with a brush.”
Taehyung snorts. “Now I know who to call the next time I need a canvas.”
Next time. Namjoon likes the sound of that.
“I wouldn’t mind that.”
“Good to know,” Taehyung says and then, to Namjoon’s disappointment, both of his hands leave Namjoon’s face, “Open your eyes.”
Once again doing as told, Namjoon opens his eyes and has to wait for them to adjust to the bright light coming from the vanity. With Taehyung’s frame in the center of Namjoon’s line of sight, the lights shine from both sides of him, making Taehyung look like an actual fallen angel for a moment.
A hand returns back to Namjoon’s chin and Taehyung tilts his face from side to side as he looks at his work.
“Pretty,” Taehyung murmurs, then glances at his makeup bag with a thoughtful expression, “I have some glitter stars that would suit the look if you’re up for that?”
“Sure,” Namjoon agrees without hesitation, though he barely even catched Taehyung’s words because his mind got stuck on the way the word rounded on Taehyung’s lips.
Taehyung huffs out a laugh and picks up the makeup bag again. “You know, you’re surprisingly willing to all of this considering this is your first time doing something like this.”
“Why is it surprising?”
Pulling out a small jar of glittering silver stars, glue and tweezers from the bag, Taehyung shrugs. “It’s just not a given for people to be so open to try. Obviously, there’s nothing wrong with not wanting to try it if it doesn’t sound like your cup of tea. But it’s still nice to work on someone so...well, open, I guess.”
“Have you ever had people giving you trouble for doing drag?” Namjoon asks and immediately realizes how stupid that question is, “I mean, like from someone from our community not just from general bigots.”
Taehyung hums and twists the cap of the glitter jar open and gives it to Namjoon to hold, which he does very carefully. Then he goes for the glue, doesn’t ask for Namjoon to close his eyes again as he leans closer and dabs some of it under Namjoon’s brow with the applicator.
Tweezers in hand, Taehyung takes a single small star from the jar and places it on the spot he applied glue to. Then he blows on it, warm breath tingling on Namjoon’s skin.
Taehyung doesn’t answer the question for so long, Namjoon thinks he might not get one at all. It’s okay, though. It might have been too personal of a question. But then Taehyung silently says, “There have been some. Past partners mostly.
Silence. Another star. Namjoon feels like punching something.
“You’d be surprised by how many people I’ve dated who’ve met me first in drag and only fallen in love with that version,” Taehyung murmurs, a smile that is entirely too sad on his lips, “In the beginning, they’re super supportive, you know before any real relationship labels. Or at least they think they’re being supportive. I don’t really count wanting to have sex with me in drag supportive when it’s the only way they really want to do it.”
Namjoon’s hands have involuntarily clenched into fists at his sides. “Tae, that’s...I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too,” Taehyung says, dabbing more glue under the outer corner of his eyes before adding another star, “It took one too many heartbreaks to realize that it’s a red flag and that I deserve better. I know that now.”
Namjoon follows Taehyung’s movements in silence. It really is like he is creating a painting, like he’s making Namjoon into a piece of art to be hung in a museum. “I’m glad you figured that out.”
Once again, it takes Taehyung a while to answer, instead focusing on adding the last two stars on Namjoon’s left eye before moving to do the same on the right side. “Well, I wouldn’t say I’ve completely figured it out yet, but at least I'm closer than I was a year ago.”
“Takes time,” Namjoon says.
“Yeah,” Taehyung agrees, “Time.”
Namjoon takes that as a sign to not continue to topic anymore and a comfortable silence hangs above them as Taehyung meticulously places the rest of the stars.
Sounds of the club waking up for the night travel to the room, muffled music, footsteps and clinking of glasses. Namjoon’s in no hurry to rush to the bar, though. Taehyung said they’d be doing this again, but Namjoon has no idea when that next time will be. Hopefully it’ll rain again soon. At least then Namjoon would have an excuse to have Taehyung in his lap again.
After the stars, Taehyung pulls out a small metal contraption that look like some twisted torture scissors that Namjoon soon learns is used to simply curl eyelashes. Thankfully, as Taehyung uses the curlers on Namjoon, the only thing Namjoon can focus on is the way Taehyung is biting down a smile.
Then comes the mascara, which is somehow even scarier because one wrong move and Namjoon’s eye could be pierced. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Taehyung, it’s himself that he is worried about.
“Final touch,” Taehyung announces, pulling out a clear lip-gloss from the makeup bag that Namjoon is starting to think is bottomless due to how many things Taehyung has procured from it, “Okay with lip-gloss?”
“I think I have way too much makeup on my face to say no to a little bit of lip-gloss.”
Taehyung grins wide enough to show his teeth. “Thought so.”
Namjoon thought that he had gotten over the shock of having Taehyung so close, but nothing compares to when Taehyung’s thumb swipes over Namjoon’s bottom lip briefly before he applies the lip gloss all over his lip.
It’s intimate in the way Namjoon once again wasn’t prepared for, though it once again doesn’t mean anything special. Taehyung told him himself that he’s done this too many times to count. He probably does this to all his canvases. Namjoon’s not special in that aspect.
All too soon, Taehyung pulls away and pushes the applicator back into the tube. Like in the beginning of all this, Taehyung’s eyes roam all over Namjoon’s face, no doubt looking for any imperfections in his work. Secretly, Namjoon wishes there was some. Any excuse to have Taehyung’s touch on him again.
There’s a bang on the door that makes both of them flinch and snap their head towards the sound. Two seconds later, Yoongi’s voice travels through the wood, “A lot of people are showing up now, so I could really use a little help!”
“Shit,” Namjoon says, almost forgets Taehyung is still in his lap and moves to stand. Taehyung winces from the move but takes that as his sign to stand up too. Unfortunately, so, “Give me a sec!”
“Sorry, I hadn’t realized we were taking so long,” Taehyung mutters and Namjoon hears the words, registers them even, but he’s looking at himself in the mirror and he’s too stunned to speak, “Namjoon?”
Taehyung appears behind him, a concerned look on his face as his hand finds a place in between Namjoon’s shoulder blades. There’s a question in his eyes that he doesn’t get the chance to voice as Namjoon beats him to it, “You’re magic, Tae.”
For a moment, Taehyung himself looks a little dazed. Then he shakes his head and smiles as he says, “Thank you.”
With that, Taehyung turns around and heads for the door. When he opens it, Yoongi’s standing there with his arms crossed over his stomach while one-foot taps impatiently against the linoleum floor.
“All ready?” Yoongi asks and peaks inside. His eyes meet with Namjoon and if he’s surprised to see Namjoon in his current state, he doesn’t let it show. Still, he does acknowledge it with a simple, “You look good.”
“Thanks,” Namjoon says, and Yoongi quirks a brow at him and then glances at Taehyung with an expression that Namjoon has only seen on his mother before. The kind Namjoon got when she nearly caught him holding hands with a boy for the first time. “What?”
Yoongi opens his mouth, then closes it and shakes his head until he eventually mumbles, “Nothing,” and backs into the hallway, “Just be out in five. I want a smoke break.”
Namjoon waits in silence until he hears the hallway door open and bang close. He turns back to Taehyung to find him already looking at Namjoon. Neither of them say anything for a few beats of the lady gaga song playing in the background. Namjoon doesn’t know what to say. Taehyung looks to be in the same predicament as he continues to stare at Namjoon with something akin to curiosity.
Namjoon clears his throat. “I should uh...I should go.”
“Yeah, good idea,” Taehyung says and nibbles on his bottom lip as he turns back to the vanity, “I gotta get ready now anyway.”
“Right. I’m sorry for taking up your-”
“You didn’t,” Taehyung interrupts, “Really, Joon. It’s fine. I was happy to help. And my offer from earlier is still on the table. Just hit me up whenever. You have my number, right?”
“I do, yeah.”
He had gotten it out of the work group chat. Taehyung’s number was the first one he saved, did it as soon as he recognized the profile picture to be the pretty boy who kept ordering strawberry flavored drinks. He also might have spent an embarrassingly long time looking at the picture, might have spent even more time considering if sending a private message would be weird. He ended up not doing it, still hasn’t done it. What would he even say?
“Okay.” Taehyung nods and sits down on his vanity chair. He then looks at Namjoon through the mirror and winks as he adds, “I’ll be waiting for a message then.”
Struggling to come up with anything more to say, Namjoon leaves the room and closes the door behind him. With closed eyes Namjoon has to stop to lean his back on the wall, catch his breath and gather his thoughts.
Yoongi’s waiting for him at the edge of the bar, looking somehow even more impatient than he did before.
“Ready to go back to work?” Yoongi asks and, when Namjoon answers with a nod, “Just as a warning, Seokjin will beg to take pictures of you. I suggest you just let him. ”
As soon as Seokjin sees Namjoon, he does indeed beg to take pictures of Namjoon and Namjoon’s mind is too clouded to refuse. In his daze, he watches Seokjin adding the polaroid picture of Namjoon’s new look on the wall alongside a plethora of other polaroids. Looking at the wall closer, he can see them all. Yoongi and Hoseok and Jimin. Seokjin cuddling with a doe eyed person who Namjoon has never met before. Taehyung. And now Namjoon.
For the rest of the night, his cloudy mind refuses to clear, makes it hard for Namjoon to focus on what he’s supposed to be doing. It only gets worse when Taehyung once again steps on stage as Vee.
Vee is in all blue tonight. A flowy gown made of mesh fabric dyed with different shades of blue. Sky and marine and midnight and indigo. Their long hair is inky black and wavy. Stars sparkling under their eyes.
As they move with the slow beat of the song, the dress moves with them like water. It starts off as a calm river that transforms into a rippling lake and eventually an unruly sea that crashes hard against the shoreline as Vee drops to the floor to finish off their routine.
There are times when Vee performs that Namjoon thinks that they’re looking directly at him. Before, Namjoon had brushed that thought away as quickly as it came because why would they? Out of all the people in the club, why would their eyes search for him across the room? It was simply his brain overthinking again.
Now, as Vee stands in the middle of the stage, lights hitting every inch of their beautifully tanned skin, Namjoon is sure. There’s no doubt about it.
Except, it’s not Vee looking at him. Not really. It’s the person underneath the makeup and shimmering fabric.
Just before disappearing into the smoke once again, Taehyung stares at Namjoon over the crowd. And for that moment, Namjoon swears it’s like there’s no other people in the room at all.