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namjoon is okay being mate-less, thank you very much.
he's spent ten years of his life avoiding any trace and breadcrumb of this whole soulmate business and his persistently stubborn nature has kept him a cynic and a non-believer. his friends tell him it's an unorthodox way to live but namjoon supposes it's okay if he doesn't have to bear the burden and responsibility of a soulmate.
hoseok will badger him and insist that soulmates aren't burdens but rather blessings. namjoon chooses to poke fingers into his ears and knock back hoseok's tirades.
"this is what life is like, kim namjoon. you've got to stop acting like a bratty child and stop avoiding your responsibilities as a human being."
namjoon just doesn't like that his seemingly one purpose in life is to find his soulmate. it just seems unfair to himself to push aside all his dreams and focus on the one person he's supposedly soul-bound to.
in hoseok's words, it's a natural life process.
in namjoon's words, it's just honestly ludicrous, is what it is.
when he's twenty-three, he meets taehyung.
and kim taehyung isn't his soulmate, that much is very, very clear.
his brown eyes certainly don't match taehyung's soft, purple strands and his silver hair is certainly nonparallel to taehyung's black eyes but with the way taehyung tastes- sweet and saccharine- and the way he feels- soft and velvet- under his wide palms, namjoon forgets and lets himself go.
taehyung himself doesn't seem to give a single thought about it and kisses namjoon like he believes he's the one.
namjoon isn't, of course he isn't. but taehyung, too, fools himself and tries- just like namjoon.
"you're not my first distraction," taehyung kisses the hushed words down namjoon's jaw and places little bruises along his collarbone.
namjoon just fucks up into taehyung harder and tightens his grip on taehyung's hips. the latter throws his head back and lets out an unabashed moan. "glad i could add to your pile," namjoon whispers into the soft skin of taehyung's neck.
afterwards, when taehyung is lightly perched on his windowsill by the fire-escape with nothing but a bed sheet to shield him from the cold, namjoon tentatively asks him if he's ever met his soulmate.
taehyung nods reluctantly and mutters a low, "we've met a couple times on campus." he pauses to take a long drag from his cigarette and namjoon watches him exhale slowly, smoke making his face hazy.
"his name's jimin," taehyung's voice takes on a different tone and even with the distance between them, namjoon can hear the dejection sitting low on his words. "he-" taehyung clears his throat. "-he wears contacts."
namjoon knows that's enough for taehyung- or anyone, really- to have a 'distraction pile' so he nods, grabs taehyung's foot to pull him closer to him and gives him a kiss.
soon enough, over the course of a week or two, taehyung becomes accustomed to the ways of namjoon's apartment. at this point, namjoon's positive taehyung knows his way to the kitchen and back to the bedroom even in the dark.
they spend more time together than namjoon would have originally planned to but he doesn't mind.
he, too, gets accustomed to seeing taehyung naked in his bed with nothing but a sliver of white sheet to cover his nudity. he, too, gets accustomed to coming home from the studio to find taehyung already there, wearing an old baseball shirt and reading rimbaud upside down.
soulmate or not, namjoon finds the boy endlessly endearing.
hoseok is angry, to say the least, says it's not fair to taehyung, says it's not fair to namjoon himself. hoseok is angry, but most of all, he's just disappointed in him. namjoon's not stupid, he can see the way hoseok looks at him and taehyung.
but as with most things that hoseok says, namjoon takes the usual route. he plugs his ears and ignores hoseok, believes he himself is in the right and that things will be okay.
believes him and taehyung will be okay.
and as with anything that goes on in namjoon's life, fate takes its usual route.
when he's twenty-three and about three-quarters along the way, he wakes up and his eyes are green. a soft, mint color namjoon doesn't- and would have never- seen coming.
he locks himself inside his bathroom, continuously whispering a small mantra to himself. taehyung knocks profusely in the background.
'it's okay, namjoon, it's okay, this is just another thing- you can deal with this'
taehyung somehow manages to pick the lock and he stumbles in, eyebrows furrowed in concern, to find namjoon crouched in the tub, hands roughly grasping strands of silver hair and he rushes to wrap his arms around namjoon- to gather his broken pieces.
it doesn't take long. kim taehyung's smart and he catches on quite quickly.
he places a finger underneath namjoon's chin and prompts him to lift his head up. namjoon follows with little resistance and meekly lets his eyes open.
taehyung sighs, but it's not a sad one, namjoon thinks. he guesses taehyung's been expecting it to come soon enough. namjoon doesn't find anything fit to say so he presses forward and kisses an apology on taehyung's lips.
taehyung doesn't respond.
he pulls away from namjoon and whispers an almost inaudible,
"call me a cab, will you?"
namjoon watches from his spot on the edge of his mattress as taehyung packs his things into a dufflebag namjoon lends him. taehyung bends down to pick up loose articles of his clothing scattered around the nooks of namjoon's room, grabs his little trinkets and packs it away.
he packs quietly and doesn't look in namjoon's direction.
before he leaves, taehyung gives him a soft parting kiss, smile sad but okay.
"you were the best distraction, namjoon."
he cups namjoon's face in his warm hands and wipes away namjoon's stray tears with gentle swipes of his thumbs.
"i'm so sorry i couldn't love you, tae."
taehyung somehow finds it in himself to chuckle.
"oh, baby, i know you didn't but you tried to- you tried so hard," he gives namjoon a small pat on the cheek. "i'm sorry i couldn't love you, too, namjoon."
another kiss, another sigh.
"i hope you find him, namjoon, and love him- for me," taehyung whispers, barely audible, barely breathing, "i hope you find him and learn to accept him even though i could never do the same for myself and jimin."
he grins, but namjoon guesses it was more to placate him than anything else.
"i hope you decide to find your true lover because you very much deserve all the true love in this ugly world."
namjoon stays still on the foyer step as taehyung leaves. he watches the door swing shut and the lock click.
hoseok immediately notices namjoon's green eyes and the lack of 'taehyung'-things in the apartment when he comes over to check on namjoon's well-being.
namjoon's well-being is not...well. he's been wallowing in an uncertain type of sadness, tossing and turning in bed and, at times, missing taehyung's warm body pressed against his.
hoseok comments on his observations as soon as he drops his bags of takeout onto namjoon's kitchen counter.
"fuck, your eyes are green."
"my eyes are green."
a pause.
"he left."
"he left," namjoon echoes, hollow and ghost-like. "you were right- shit was bound to hit the fan."
namjoon almost sees hoseok's anger at his past-predicament silently dissipate into thin air. their friendship works in mysterious ways, namjoon muses. hoseok comes over to namjoon on the couch, and wraps an arm around him.
"he just wasn't the right one, namjoon."
namjoon laughs dryly. "but i still tried."
and with hoseok, soon enough, he gets back on his feet.
he brushes himself off and hides memories of taehyung, pushes memories of soft purple to the back of his brain and tries to focus on the soft mint of his irises. he allows himself to breathe deeply and he allows himself to remember the one sliver of love taehyung gave him.
he allows himself to remember taehyung's words.
i hope you find him, namjoon, and love him-
for me.
hoseok drags namjoon out for brunch on a wednesday and he lightheartedly agrees, dresses himself in a clean hoodie and jeans and heads out for the cafe.
it's a small hole-in-the-wall establishment, the cafe, but a sentimental one at that. hoseok's soulmate- jeongguk with the maroon hair, parallel to hoseok's maroon irises- is a barista at said cafe, so hoseok, of course, holds it close to his heart. namjoon has never understood how a place can mean so much to a person but he lets hoseok be.
and he's close, so close to the cafe, when pain blooms in his chest and he stops, right in the middle of the pedestrian stop.
clutching at his chest, he grimaces and feels the sharp pain quickly ebb to a slight throb. he looks up and a head of mint hair catches his peripherals.
his whole world crashes in two seconds flat and he chokes on a breath, as if gut-punched.
people walk past him like nothing is wrong.
other people's lives keep going while his crashes on the spot.
he's got a lithe body, the man, possibly a head shorter than namjoon himself. he's donning a black hoodie, practically swimming in the fabric and namjoon guesses it must belong to the blond man next to him, arm wrapped securely around the mint-haired person's shoulders, tall and broad with a sculpted face and sharp nose.
namjoon stays still, doesn't move from his spot smack-dab in the middle of the crossing, not even when people shoulders bump his and urge him to move forward. he stays still and stares, feels the throbbing in his chest become a significant inkling under his skin.
his staring seems to have caught the green-haired man's attention, as he turns his gaze and meets namjoon's. namjoon watches as he, too, grimaces and raises a hand to scratch at a spot above his heart. the man stops in his tracks, eyes still trained on namjoon, and the sudden halt confuses the blond next to him.
namjoon's close enough that he catches the small exchange of words.
"-yoongi? everything alright?"
the mint-haired man- yoongi, namjoon mentally notes- blinks and furrows his eyebrows. he shakes his head lightly, as if breaking himself out of a trance and he turns to the blond next to him.
"i'm fine, yeah. everything- everything's fine."
the blond seems satisfied by yoongi's answer and lowers his hand to the small of yoongi's back, pushing him forward.
namjoon doesn't move from his spot but rather keeps his eyes trained on yoongi and watches him get closer and closer to him, until their shoulders brush and namjoon jolts.
yoongi doesn't stop looking at namjoon, not even when he's so far down the crossing he has to crane his neck backwards and the blond next to him chides for him to watch where he's walking. namjoon watches as the pair disappear around the corner.
he runs to the cafe, bustling through the wooden doors and startling jeongguk behind the coffee machines, hoseok by the counter, and the handful of customers in the shop.
hoseok shoots him a worried glance and walks closer to him. "namjoon? everything alright?" he places a hand on namjoon's forehead, as if feeling for a fever. he shakes hoseok's hand off, stumbling to the nearest table and settling down onto an armchair. he leans back into the cushions and closes his eyes.
"i found him."
he hears footsteps and he opens his eyes a sliver to peek. jeongguk pops into the corner of his peripherals.
"found who?"
"my soulmate-"
"-that's great!-"
he cuts hoseok's joy short. "-with another man."
hoseok visibly deflates and lets out a small, "oh", while jeongguk snorts.
"what if he was just a friend? or a brother? or-"
namjoon shakes his head. "he wasn't a friend," he mumbles.
hoseok crosses his arms across his chest and looks at namjoon with narrowed eyes. "how can you be so sure?"
he laughs, bitter with a tinge of sadness. "he looked at yoongi the same way i used to look at taehyung," he whispers, glancing hoseok's sudden change in expression.
"-with hope that things will work out."
namjoon meets yoongi again a few days later, at the cafe, the latter bunched up in a different hoodie with his hands wrapped around a steaming mug.
he tries to stealthily walk to the counter without being noticed but it fails when yoongi raises his head and his eyes widen when he spots namjoon in front of the double-doors. he tries his best to ignore yoongi boring holes into the side of his head. namjoon makes it to the counter before leaning against the wood to steady himself, taking deep breaths to calm his heart.
jeongguk stares at him, unsure whether or not to indulge his weird idiosyncrasies. jeongguk goes with not. "um, do you want to order or are you going to just hold yourself up against the cashier?"
namjoon clears his throat and leans in. "he's here."
"that's not at all vague and non-specific-"
"-my soulmate," namjoon hisses, pointing at his irises. "look for the breadcrumbs and you'll find the whole goddamn gingerbread house, jeongguk."
the younger takes a quick sweep of the customers before his eyes widen and his jaw unhinges open. "wait, the one who looks like the green teletubby?- was that tinky-winky or-"
"-it was dipsy, you fucking dingbat." namjoon shoots a glare in jeongguk's direction and grimacing at his distasteful attempt at humor.
jeongguk ignores the glare. "he's been here since nine in the morning and he's had about- oh, i'd say about three cups of straight black. i think, at this point, his blood composition is ninety-three percent caffeine."
namjoon chews on a fingernail. "have you seen his eyes?" he sighs, defeated, when jeongguk shakes his head.
the younger abruptly moves away from the counter and heads out from behind, stopping to stand next to namjoon. jeongguk places a hand on his shoulder and gives him a small pat and a reassuring smile, before strolling over to yoongi's table. he watches as jeongguk bends down to ask yoongi if he wants another refill, watches yoongi shake his head politely and jeongguk walk back to his spot behind the cashier.
"well?" namjoon asks, a tad bit too impatient.
jeongguk grins. "silver eyes- he's your gingerbread house, kim namjoon."
"perfect timing- can you watch the till for me for a sec? i just really want to go get some lunch at the cafe."
"yeah, alright, but get me a sandwich or something- i was in the studio all night and i haven't had breakfast yet- and an americano, bless you."
hoseok nods before swiping his wallet and phone from underneath the counter and heading out the door. namjoon takes his place behind the cashier and slumps against the hard wood of the counter.
it's safe to say namjoon feels positively nauseous. he hasn't slept properly in weeks, only finding sleep on the couch in his studio at odd hours in the morning and he's sure he looks like a wreck but that's only because he feels like one.
the bell chimes and he musters enough energy to lift his head up and attempt to glance at the door. he mentally curses hoseok for placing the cashier in the corner farthest from the door. namjoon cranes his neck to peek at the new customer.
his nausea multiplies by a tenfold in a heartbeat.
yoongi strolls- more like drags himself- towards the shelves stacked with paint tubs and contemplates in front of a line of different shades of blue. he places a thoughtful finger on his chin and namjoon watches his eyes flit between the different labels.
namjoon stays low, keeps his head flat on the counter and watches yoongi flit around the aisles, picking up a pair of tubs and a few brushes. he's aware he's probably being an invasive creep by doing all the staring but can you honestly blame him?
he attempts to ignore yoongi's presence and closes his eyes for a moment, focuses on the feeling of definite-nausea in his chest.
it's deep-dwelling, low in his heart and it feeds his slight fear of the situation. maybe hoseok was right. having a soulmate near you is like being shot in the chest- then having to live with the bullet lodged right in the core. he reminds himsef not to tell hoseok in fear of boosting his already sizeable ego.
"oh."
it's a soft exclamation, faint and gentle, and when namjoon's eyes shoot open in surprise, a louder choking noise sounds from yoongi's mouth- who is now stood in front of the cashier with his arms filled with paraphernelia.
namjoon bolts upwards and stumbles off the stool he's sat on, landing on the hard ground.
"oh my god- i'm- i'm sorry-"
he raises both hands, as if that'll indicate some sort of okay-ness to yoongi. "i'm okay- i'm fine-" he stands up and arranges himself back on the stool, sending yoongi a small smile in reassurance. he ignores the pain blooming on the base of his spine.
yoongi slowly arranges the paint tubs and brushes onto the counter, namjoon scanning all of the items in turn. he focuses on the beeping sound of the machine rather than the sound of yoongi's breathing.
"um," yoongi starts, tapping a finger against the wood, "do you want to talk?"
namjoon looks up, feigns innocence. "about what?"
yoongi hesitantly points a finger at namjoon's eyes, then at his own head of hair. he then gestures to his own silver irises, then namjoon's hair.
"about the huge boulder i feel lodged in my arteries as i stand right here in front of you," yoongi mutters, pulling out his wallet and taking out some bills.
the bell chimes as soon as namjoon finishes bagging yoongi's things up, hoseok slipping through the entryway with bags in his hand and heading towards the cashier. he stops short and his eyes widen at the sight of yoongi's mint hair.
"what?" he mouths at namjoon, gesturing wildly at yoongi's hair. namjoon just shoots him a look he hopes simultaneously tells hoseok to go away and explains the situation. he supposes it suffices when hoseok grins and stumbles into the backroom.
he turns to yoongi. "do you want to talk about this over coffee? or a beer and a packet of cigarettes because-"
yoongi chuckles, hushed, before shooting namjoon a small smile. "beer and tobacco sounds great."
they sit under a tree by the lake near namjoon's apartment, a six-pack in between their thighs and cigarettes lit brightly in the evening darkness.
"so you paint?"
yoongi nods. "art major. i sculpt, too, but i prefer colors." he takes a swig of his beer before glancing at namjoon. "what about you? what do you do with your time?"
"music," he replies, exhaling his breath of smoke out slowly. "i produce and i write and i perform it in front of strangers."
"i saw you in the cafe the other day," yoongi says, "you were hunched over a notebook, too absorbed with writing, so you didn't see me walk by."
namjoon smiles as he remembers. "ah, but i felt it." he remembers feeling off while scribbling verses down, a sort of tingling in his spine but he'd just brushed it off to lack of sleep. "felt like ants were crawling all over me."
yoongi hums and snubs his cigarette out on a rock. "so, namjoon, is it always going to feel like this?" he asks. "the ants and the...crawling?"
"as far as my friends have told me, no. i think this whole soulmate business just goes up from here."
"and how are you with this whole soulmate business?"
namjoon laughs dryly and empty. "i spent three-quarters of my entire twenty-four years on this ugly earth ignoring it, laughing and ridiculing the concept."
"and what happened in the last quarter?" yoongi asks.
he looks at the man next to him- mint-haired and silver-eyed with a newly-lit cigarette in between his lips and a bottle of shit beer in his hand- and remembers taehyung's words.
remembers the way he tried to love him and the sincerity in taehyung's eyes as he left.
"someone i met and cherished told me i deserved it and i believed them."
he thinks about the way being with taehyung doesn't compare to a single second with yoongi.
yoongi meets his soft but somewhat calculating gaze before hesitantly reaching a hand out. his fingers trail from namjoon's temple to the tip of his cheekbones down to the line of his jaw. he feels fire follow the traces yoongi leaves.
"before i found you, i tried my best to ignore the soulbond," yoongi whispers, retracting his hand, "i tried to love someone who tried to love me in return but-" yoongi's eyes soften. "his name's seokjin. he's blond- a month ago, his eyes turned red and he left me."
"taehyung," namjoon says in reply, low and he doubts yoongi actually heard him, "his name was taehyung- purple hair. he left as soon as my eyes turned green."
yoongi uses the silence as an opportunity and moves in closer. he leans against namjoon's side, places his head in the crook between namjoon's shoulder and chin after a moment of hesitation. yoongi pats namjoon's thigh.
"we're in this together now, kim namjoon," he murmurs.
"-my eyes are yours."
there's a light tone of laughter in yoongi's words but namjoon can feel the candor seeping through.
namjoon sighs, grabbing the hand yoongi has on his thigh and clasping his fingers around yoongi's, intertwining their fingers. he squeezes lightly.
"and mine, yours."
yoongi paints in the same manner he speaks.
with honesty.
namjoon quietly grabs a stool and places it behind yoongi's own, settles down. he hooks his chin on yoongi's shoulder and watches his hands roam around the canvas. namjoon wraps his arms around yoongi's middle and listens to the sound of yoongi's focused breathing.
he lifts his gaze and looks around yoongi's studio.
they're in his apartment and namjoon had woken up to empty sheets. he had known immediately to walk into the studio, had walked into yoongi painting hastily, paint splatters coating his pajamas. yoongi doesn't notice his presence until he announces it with a harsh cough, but even then, he doesn't spare namjoon a glance, merely hums a simple sound of acknowledgement.
everywhere he looks, his own green eyes stare at him and he remains forever floored by yoongi's sincere art.
he watches his own face come alive in the different shades of blue scattered around the new piece of canvas. yoongi always paints in blue, says it's the most honest color- nothing more honest than the seas and the sky, he says.
in every painting of namjoon, every aspect of his face is in mixed hues- all but his eyes.
"they're green."
yoongi laughs, nods and continues with the same mint-colored tube of paint.
"they're mine."
("...you fucking bastard."
yoongi is positively seething as soon as he sees the color of his hair. namjoon leans against the wooden door frame of the bathroom and watches yoongi's mouth open and close, his face the perfect picture of frustration.
"-how could you go green? this is a breach of one of this relationship's codes of conduct, how could you-"
namjoon bites the inside of his cheek and smooths his face into one of nonchalance. "it looks good on me."
"my hair is green but now so are my eyes," yoongi groans. "it was my color."
"couple looks, yoongi, come on.")