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There were a multitude of things Seokjin couldn’t wait for, and most of them revolved around Namjoon.
It was almost silly, how easily Seokjin would drop everything and fly right into the sun if it meant Namjoon would be (alive) on the other side. It’d been too long, nearly more than a triplet of years, since he’d had a proper interaction with Namjoon, and a few frustrated phone calls about how they still couldn’t see each other, not with Seokjin’s tour in the way, were not nearly enough.
It was an understatement, then, to say that Seokjin missed his husband.
Even the little furrow between his eyebrows when he got stressed out, the (annoying) way he’d tap his pencil on the table when he was fidgeting and thinking about deep philosophical things, and especially the way he always made time for Seokjin, no matter how busy their schedules got. At least, that was before the military chapter of their lives.
Seokjin’s foot tapped slightly out of rhythm with the bumps on the road that the car drove over, and he forced himself to stop moving. He was getting impatient, wanting nothing more than to run to Namjoon and find his safe place right in his long arms, to ruffle his hair and sweetly kiss his cheek until he got pouty and asked for real kisses. What wouldn’t he give to skip this hours-long car ride and curl up with Namjoon holding him forever?
The funniest part was that he actually spent a good while mulling the thought over until he realized he had just tried to answer his own rhetorical question. Seokjin breathed out slowly, glancing quickly at the driver in the front seat, not wanting to appear bored or rude or anything remotely negative. He knew his act, that he had to be elated and exhausted and filled with joy at the successful near-conclusion of his tour.
And he was. The shock and thrill of internally screaming every time he heard the crazy waves of love he was getting from the fans never failed to bring him up from his lows of exhaustion. Not to mention all the support. Oh, how much he sometimes wished that he could out with his marital status to the fans. The fear of backlash and everyone walking away kept the post on Instagram from Namjoon's account about the ring (conveniently on the fucking left hand ring finger) the closest breadcrumb to date that ARMY could trail back to this (surprisingly) well-hidden secret of the world-famous BTS.
Of course he was happy with his life so far. Who wouldn't be? A multi-millionaire at 33 when most didn't make it big until their late 40's. Married to the love of his life (and yeah, that sounded a bit sappy, but Seokjin was beyond the point of caring). He almost had everything. Almost.
He just really, really missed Namjoon.
But really, with how thoughtful and caring and ever-concerned that idiot was, who wouldn’t? His voice was always like honeyed bread to Seokjin; warm, a little bit of a rough lilt, and so sweet. Always so sweet, that overused voice of his that got soft and worried whenever Seokjin worked too hard to catch up with the others, even back during early debut.
“Seokjin-ssi, we’re here.”
The abrupt comment from the otherwise-silent driver startled Seokjin slightly, and he shook his head slightly, smiling politely at him and gathering his bag. “Thank you so much, have a wonderful night!”
The driver merely nodded, likely tired from driving slightly more than an hour to get Seokjin home, and drove off after a muttered “goodnight”. Seokjin wasn’t focused on the guy’s apparent lack of manners, because as soon as he turned his head, he saw Jimin, who was fucking pressed to the window and waving frantically like some kind of phantom had possessed him. Seokjin couldn’t help it, and a snort escaped his mouth before he quickly clamped his jaws shut, heading at a brisk pace down the path that led to the entrance.
Rather than slowing down, time seemed to speed up, and he thanked whatever gods existed that soon after he opened the door, all the boys crowded around him, hugging him, screaming all about how he was finally back. Of course they insisted that he drink and drink and drink until he faked being tipsy just to sleep (though he still felt guilty about that). He could still hear the shrieks from down the hall (probably Jimin or Taehyung) and found himself laughing again. Those boys really could cheer him up from anything.
But there was one missing. And he didn't even have to wait a full minute before there was a knock on his door and Namjoon's low voice was threading underneath the gaps between the sleek rectangle of wood and the doorframe.
Seokjin wasted no time in opening the door and pulling Namjoon in by the sleeve, too overwhelmed and emotional to even bother with not coming across as clingy. And because that streak of humor always possessed him at the worst possible times, he mumbled "You're lucky I wasn't changing..." and then Namjoon was pulling him forward, closer, impossibly close...
And finally, Seokjin was in his arms again.
Namjoon’s now short hair ticked Seokjin’s cheek as he pressed his face into the familiar crook of the younger’s neck, just breathing in the faint scent of some type of wood (Seokjin never did figure out what it was) and suddenly-addicting-smelling sweat. He could never get over how suddenly Namjoon’s build had gotten wider, more toned, no longer the awkward boy with rough edges Seokjin had first fallen in love with.
And hey, he was doing something far from complaining.
“I missed you a lot,” Seokjin finally admitted when he was done basically inhaling Namjoon. The younger’s hands came up to tangle in Seokjin’s hair, not even possessively, just a light hold that somehow still had Seokjin hungry for the feeling of Namjoon’s soft lips against his own. He followed the impulse, leaning forward until he was cozily curled in Namjoon’s lap, and kissed him so gently it almost felt deeper than their pre-sex kisses.
Deeper than the ocean, that’s what he called it.
Namjoon’s voice was a little rough and cracked around the edges from using it all day, but his reply came as clear as day into Seokjin’s eager ears. “I missed you too, hyung, too much to say. I love you so much, you can’t even measure it with light-years.”
Seokjin swatted halfheartedly at Namjoon’s shoulder. “Yah! Kim Namjoon, if you keep saying stuff like that, I might seriously follow you into the Sun.” He tilted his gaze up to meet Namjoon’s eyes, suddenly feeling a wave of shyness and certainty that swept through him when he saw the softness in the younger’s eyes, just for him. Namjoon's entire voice softened, like it always did when it came to Seokjin. It was full of surety and love as his hands came up to gently touch Seokjin's face and he said, quietly, confidently,
“I’ll be waiting for you there, then.”