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Seokjin walked into their waiting room at Music Core with sleep still in his eyes and his hand covering his mouth mid-yawn. It wasn't exactly early morning, but they did sleep pretty late last night going through rehearsals at the show's studio then back in their own practice studio. They had 3 hours of sleep before it was time again for practice and then it was already time to leave for the show's complete dress rehearsal and pre-recording.
He saw their costumes hanging on the rack right by the entrance, but in his sleep induced trance, all he could think about was sleep before make-up, sleep during make-up, sleep after make-up. Maybe a bit more sleep before going up for the pre-recording, but that would mean he’d have to sacrifice his final self-rehearsal. Hmm.. maybe.
He was already in his costume – a black silky dress shirt with small white polka dots adorning it – sitting on the small sofa holding his black tie in one hand, while he rested his chin on his other. The heavy bustling in the room didn’t stop his eyelids from drooping every now and then, nor did the fact that Jimin was holding the Bangtan Bomb camera and might film him drowsing off.
Seokjin was leaning back on the sofa when Namjoon entered the room after changing into his costume.
Hoseok and Jimin laughed. Yoongi looked up from his phone indifferently. Jungkook and Taehyung walked towards him in awe. Seokjin opened his eyes and choked.
“Isn’t- Isn’t that a bit too much?”
Namjoon looked at him confusedly.
“What is?”
“That- Your- That!”
Seokjin waved his hand in front of him in a small circular motion. When Namjoon continued to look at him with a perplexed expression, he pointed to his own chest in the same motion then flared his hand towards the leader.
Namjoon looked down at his own chest and turned red.
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh.”
Namjoon had on a black soft cotton shirt that fits nicely around him, with cuffs around his wrist, black sash acting as collar as well as a scarf hanging around his neck, and the thing that made Seokjin choke – a deep V cutting past his chest, exposing his sternum and not to mention the hint of pectoral muscle peeking behind it.
Yoongi passed him a bottle of water and he gulps it down, never once taking his eyes off Namjoon’s chest.
Taehyung and Jungkook were somehow impressed with the garment that Namjoon had on.
“Hyung, you worked out well.”
“Hyung, this shirt looks good on you.”
“Hyung, you actually look hot.”
“Damn, hyung, I've never realized you have these,” Taehyung said, poking into Namjoon’s chest with both his index fingers. “What else have you been hiding?”
“What- Ouch. No. Get away from me,” Namjoon said, covering his chest with both hands and hunching slightly in an attempt to defend himself against the two youngsters’ prying eyes and hands.
“Holy shit, Namjoonie. Hobie approves!” Hoseok snickered, wrapping an arm around him and giving a thumbs up right in front of his face.
“Hyung, I know you look good, but not this good,” Jimin giggled.
“I look better,” Yoongi said from his seat. Jimin laughed and made a beeline straight to the sour-faced rapper.
“Of course, hyung. Of course you do,” Jimin beamed up at him, sitting on his lap.
Seokjin’s bewildered expression didn’t seem to leave his face, and the heat that came along with it made him feel like he might be burning from the inside.
This was Blood Sweat Tears MV recording all over again.
Namjoon had the same outfit back then, and Seokjin had fallen out of his chair when he saw the younger bending down to retrieve his bottle of water. Seokjin was able to see the expanse of Namjoon’s chest through the cut – even way until the top of his belt from that position. It was all very uncomfortable for the elder, to put it into words.
When they finished recording their nth round of routine, they all had gathered around the small screen to monitor their own dancing. It was hot and humid inside the studio and them gathering together had intensified the humidity in the small bubble of tired panting around them. Seokjin was watching himself dance and thinking that maybe he should have tilted his head more and when he tried it out, his line of sight fell on Namjoon who was standing beside the screen, body facing the elder with one hand on the table supporting himself while the other held a small hand towel.
Somehow the small beads of sweat hanging from the rapper’s chin caught his eyes, and he saw some rolling down his neck, into the groove of his jugular notch and down between his chest, and then out of sight when Namjoon wiped himself off.
Suddenly it was ten times more humid than it was before, and Seokjin found himself following the up and down of Namjoon’s Adam’s apple as the younger gulped down his water. To make things worse, when Seokjin finally looked up, he found out that he was caught staring, Namjoon’s deep brown eyes boring into him and he tore himself away from the group, mumbling that he was hot and needed to wash his face.
He didn’t talk to Namjoon for a couple of days after that.
And now the damn shirt was back again for this music show. Just his luck.
*
Music Core went by in a flash, and when they came back into their waiting room adrenaline was still pumping in their veins and there were a lot of laughing and chattering going on.
Everything was going perfectly fine for Seokjin until Namjoon flopped on the couch, groaning tiredly.
“Gaaawd, someone pass me a bottle of water, please.”
Jungkook tossed him one and it landed right beside him.
“Thanks,” Namjoon said, reaching for it.
Jungkook nodded.
Seokjin watched as Namjoon chugged his water greedily as if he’d been walking through the desert and it was his first drink in days, oblivious to the trickle of water going down the side of his jaw and down his throat, but before long, Namjoon was already wiping it away with the back of his hand, his movement slow as if it was on purpose.
Seokjin blinked.
Namjoon had that look on him. The same look he gave the camera during their MV shooting, the one where he looked up from his cup and raised an eyebrow.
Namjoon fucking raised an eyebrow at Seokjin in mock fucking curiosity.
Seokjin got up from his seat and left.
He nearly tripped right in front of Monsta X on his way to the men’s room. They greeted each other, Seokjin with a tight smile on his face.
He slammed the door opened, and took a quick look around. Thank god no one was here. Thank god no one was going see him like that. Thank god no one was around to hear him groan in frustration as he continuously slapped himself in the face.
“Idiot. You idiot. You fucking idiot. What the fuck, Kim Seokjin. What the fuck. What the fuckiting fu-“
Seokjin felt long fingers wrapping around his wrists, stopping any further torture he might implement on himself.
“Now, now. We can’t have finger marks on that pretty face, can we?” a familiar voice said.
Seokjin opened his eyes and chocked for the second time that day.
Namjoon was right in front of him, towering his 2 extra centimetres over the elder, with eyes dilated like a predator hunting down his prey, tongue running maddeningly slow along his lower lip, slicking it until he finally bit the corner of it coyly.
Everything seemed to be in slow motion, even the automatic spray of air freshener had Seokjin counting every droplet before they dispersed. He swore he could see the movement of airflow around them, as if he was some sort of an airbender.
Seokjin took a step back, trying to regain his breath that was somehow stuck in his chest at the intimate vicinity, but the grip that Namjoon had on him made him stumble on his feet and the leader’s reflex was to tighten his hold on the singer’s wrist while his other hand went to the small of his back, which had him pulled into Namjoon’s chest and Seokjin couldn’t help himself.
His eyes went straight to the deep V cut, and his mind made an appreciative whistle at the sight of pectoral muscles, more obvious now that they were so close. His hand made a move towards Namjoon involuntarily, but the puff of air he felt on his face brought him back to his senses.
Distancing himself away from the younger seemed to be a very difficult task, almost as hard as learning a new dance move, but Namjoon let go of his hold on Seokjin without hesitation, walking forward as the elder stepped backwards.
Namjoon’s expression was that of a cunning fox when Seokjin looked into his eyes, his devilishly tempting lips pulled into a smirk, his dimples deeper than Tartarus itself.
“Was I doing good, hyung?”
“Huh?”
“I’d say I put up quite a pretty good show back there. I had to divert their attention, hyung. You were being so obvious with your stares. I’m guessing flirting isn’t your strongest forte.”
“Joonie, wh-?”
Seokjin had nowhere else to step back to. His back hit the wall and the cold tiles took his breath away, as if he wasn’t hyperventilating already. Namjoon rested both his hands on the walls behind Seokjin, effectively bracketing the singer’s head.
He brought his face nearer and Seokjin closed his eyes. He almost whimpered when he felt the brush of hot air against his ears when Namjoon spoke slowly in that sexy deep voice of his.
“Go on, hyung. I know you want to.”
The rapper fold his hand around the elder’s wrist again, bringing it up and placing it on his chest. Seokjin felt his own breathing hitch when Namjoon hiss slightly at the cold touch on his skin, but when he opened his eyes, man, wasn’t it a sight.
As he smoothed his hand on the leader’s chest, he marvelled at the contrast of his pale skin against Namjoon’s golden olive, and how amazingly pleasant Namjoon’s skin was, and how he never knew that the younger had such a strong and hard chest, and how every bit of his body was responding to Seokjin’s touches, and- and.. Fuck. His hands must have been colder than he expected because goosebumps were starting to rise on Namjoon’s skin.. and, oh god, the damn shirt was made of soft material that Seokjin could see hardened nubs outlined clearly.
Blood flowed to his cheeks infuriatingly fast, and he felt the heat of it when Namjoon pushed his chin upwards. The smirk never left the younger’s lips, and he felt the heat spreading all over his body.
“Joonie-“ he gulped.
Namjoon’s thick lips, the ones which Seokjin had only dreamed of before, found his, and he couldn’t help but sigh at finally figuring out what it would feel like kissing Kim Namjoon.
The younger didn’t push him into kissing him harder, and Seokjin nearly whined at how soft the kiss was. It didn’t even last a minute before Namjoon was pulling away.
“Figured yourself out yet, hyung?”
“Yeah,” Seokjin breathed.
The second kiss.. well, Seokjin be damned.
The second kiss took the breath out of him so hard that it had him gasping for air when Namjoon mouthed under his jaw, placing wet kisses at sensitive skin, and he could feel Namjoon’s hands travelling down his sides, gripping hard into his abdominal muscles, and he hoped that they would leave marks. They didn’t linger long, though, before moving down his waist to rest on his hips, effortlessly pulling the hem of his shirt out from his pants. The unsubtlety of his palm on Seokjin’s stomach had the elder keening, and he felt the prickly sensation of each touch persisting as it travels upwards to his chest. Namjoon didn’t take his time to hang around, making it a point as he pinched a nipple when he simultaneously bit into Seokjin’s throat. The groan that escaped the elder’s lips might have bordered on loud, but he didn’t find it in himself to care at the moment.
Everything was a tangle of hot mess and Seokjin pulled the leader closer against him, needing to feel the pressure of his sturdy body.
Namjoon moved his hips in a way that had the elder mewling – mewling, goddammit! Seokjin barely registered that he was already having a hard on when Namjoon was pulling away, again.
“Fuck, Joonie.”
The younger pressed their lips together once more, biting the singer’s lips as he pulled away for the third time.
“The boys will be wondering,” he said breathlessly. His pupils were so dilated that they almost look black. “We have to go now, before anyone comes in here and sees you like this.”
“Go where? Like what?” Seokjin’s brain was still a muddle of hot sticky chaos.
An endearing grin adorned the younger’s face before it was replaced with something wolfish. Namjoon kissed the elder one last time before moving to unravel himself away. He walked backwards, winking suggestively as he pushed door open with his back.
“Freshen up, hyung. I’ll be waiting for you at home.”