Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Yoongi is selectively creative at best, and the idea of choosing what to say to his soulmate is far too much pressure. So at 12:01 am – it takes a minute to calm his traitorous heart – on his eighteenth birthday, Min Yoongi writes a shaky greeting on the inside of his left forearm.

Hello, my name is Min Yoongi.

The strong odour of permanent marker is overpowering, his handwriting is uneven, and his stomach is in his throat.

Shit.

Permanent marker.

He looks down at the regular non-permanent pen he should have grabbed, mocking him from his bedside table. There’s nothing he can do but wait now, though it feels like that’s all he’s ever done.

There’s a lot of pressure on one day when you’re told that your soulmate will receive anything you draw on your skin for the first time. You can meet the love of your life, or a lifelong friend. Not all soulmates are romantic, Yoongi’s uncle is soulmates with his best friend. She’s been married for years and he’s finally settling down himself.

Not everyone is looking for the love of their life, and not everyone loves the same. It only makes sense that there would be variation in the position a soulmate plays.

There was a time when Yoongi thought that it would be Namjoon. When Yoongi had been older and wiser and Namjoon had looked up to him (literally and figuratively) and seemed to believe that Yoongi hung the stars. Yoongi couldn’t help but think that was already Namjoon’s job, but he was pretty sure he hid those thoughts better. They were inseparable, and Yoongi couldn’t imagine being without him. It was then he decided that spending forever with Namjoon wouldn’t be so bad.

Even when they got older, and Namjoon no longer had to look up to Yoongi, when he became lanky and studious and so much more than the boy that hero worshipped Yoongi, that look never quite went away. Yoongi had always done well in school, but few people felt successful when their academics were compared to Namjoon’s. And after a few years of painful denial, Yoongi came to realize that he would never again pat Namjoon on the head affectionately without standing on his tip-toes. But Namjoon still looked at him like he knew all the answers, and even though it sometimes felt like an unwarranted perspective, Yoongi loved him for it.

He didn’t want to tell Namjoon, didn’t want to get his hopes up. There had been so many instances of teenagers believing they were truly in love and that their eighteenth birthday would solidify their current relationships only to deal with the pain and confusion of being mistaken. If that was what happened to high school sweethearts, Yoongi couldn’t imagine how painful it would be for him to let himself fall for Namjoon only to find that it wasn’t meant to be.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious, so he asked Namjoon questions.

Simple questions, when they were young and silly.

‘Do you think they’ll be funny?’ ‘Do you think they’ll be funny looking?’ ‘Do you think they’ll think I’m cooler than you?’

And more serious ones as they got older.

‘Do you think they’ll care about you the right away?’ ‘Do you think they’ll understand how you see the world?’ ‘Do you think they’ll communicate in ways you’re used to?’

When Yoongi was sixteen he had asked one of his questions, and Namjoon had answered about a ‘she’.

Maybe it was a slip of the tongue, maybe it was a mistake, maybe it didn’t really mean all that much.

But Yoongi took it hard.

He took it to mean that there was no way Namjoon could ever care about him the way that he cared about Namjoon, and he was fooling himself to think otherwise. It left him cold and sad, and filled with new questions he knew he’d never ask.

‘Do you think they’ll know how to fix all the stuff you break?’ ‘Do you think they’ll understand how uncomfortable you feel when people only see you as your intelligence?’ ‘Do you think they’ll appreciate how terrible you are at masking your feelings?’ ‘Do you think they’ll love you more than I do? Is that even possible?’

It was a pretty dark time. He was young, hormonal, and heartbroken. Namjoon was the only person he would trust with all of his hurt, which only made things worse.

It was obvious that Namjoon could tell something was wrong. Yoongi acted short with him, couldn’t seem to help it. He didn’t want to hurt Namjoon, didn’t want to hurt anyone. But somehow all the hurt in him just wanted to be felt, and he would catch himself trying to drag Namjoon into his despair. Namjoon was patient, though. He didn’t press the issue when it became clear Yoongi didn’t want to tell him. He didn’t let Yoongi treat him like crap, and made it very clear that he wouldn’t put up with it, but he never got angry and he waited it out until he could get his best friend back.

That almost made it worse, how great Namjoon was about everything. Eventually, Yoongi began to heal. He wasn’t over Namjoon, but he wasn’t mourning him either. He was moving on and not letting the sadness keep him from being him.

It was still hard to be around Namjoon, though. And something changed in their dynamic. Where Yoongi had always been open and obviously invested, he began to keep his distance. He couldn’t afford to keep his heart on his sleeve any longer. If Namjoon seemed sad at the shift, he never brought it up.

Yoongi never did come up with who his soulmate could be. It was hard to kick the habit of daydreaming about Namjoon so he stopped thinking about his soulmate at all. People teased him about not caring, but it was more of a defense mechanism than the trendy youthful opinion his friends tended to assume.

That doesn’t mean that he isn’t scared as hell now. Putting off thinking about the speech you need to make in front of your class doesn’t make it any less terrifying on the due date, and ignoring thoughts of soulmates doesn’t keep you from feeling a sort of hollow queasiness when the clock strikes twelve.

So as Yoongi stares at the flawed script on his wrist, he takes deep breaths and tries to quell the fear budding under his ribs. This is supposed to be a happy occasion, why can’t he just be excited like everyone else?

After an hour of restless waiting, Yoongi gives up and goes to sleep. He knows his mother will grill him in the morning. It took all of the whining he could muster to keep her from staying up with him to see what happened, and there is no way she’s gonna let him off easy.

×

Surprisingly, his mother does let him off easy the next morning. Maybe the dark rings under his eyes and sour pout plastered on his face tip her off.

His friends pounce on him the moment he gets to school, bursting with questions and excitement. He manages to brush it off with a comment about being the older part of his pair, complete with a halfhearted smile. That seems to shut them up, but he still catches Namjoon staring at him out of the corner of his eye with a hard to read expression.

It’s hard for the first few weeks, when anytime Yoongi feels a tingling on his skin his first instinct is to drop everything and look, to see if it’s his soulmate. Each time he can’t help but hope, and each time there’s nothing there. He becomes far too accustomed to the sad looks his friends give him after staring at a still blank piece of skin.

It really shouldn’t be that big of a deal, literally half of all people are the older soulmate and go through the same thing. It does suck, though, to be the older half. There is no control. You can be waiting days or years to hear from your soulmate, you may never hear from them at all.

But that doesn’t mean Yoongi deserves pity, it’s been a month since he turned eighteen. He’s got time. So why is everyone – himself included – acting like it’s the end of the world?

Maybe he needs this. Maybe he’s been waiting for this, for someone to take his mind off everything that shouldn’t be there at all.

But that’s not really fair, is it?

He shouldn’t wait for someone else to fix his unrequited feelings. He can’t leave those burdens untouched.

As time goes by, his heart stops racing at phantom tingles, and he begins to wait until he’s home to check. Once a night he goes through the motions.

Right arm, left arm, stomach. Right leg, left leg, back in the mirror.

Then it’s every couple of days, and eventually every few weeks. He decides he can’t just put his life on hold for someone. If they're really his soulmate – platonic or otherwise – they won’t want him to waste away doing nothing, waiting to be saved.

It’s not like he doesn’t have things to do, he’s a high school senior. So he invests his time into academics, accepts as much help from Namjoon in his English courses as his pride and heart can handle, and he does well. He does really well and it’s good, it’s fine.

He gets into a school with a pretty good music program and works a shitty construction job holding signs and wearing neon orange all summer. It pays great and he’ll live through sunburns if it means he can have his own equipment someday.

School starts and it’s a pretty big change. There’s a lot more he’s expected to do on his own time and a lot more time for him to manage. But he likes it. The general courses are kind of tedious, but everything concerning his major is so interesting and it reminds him that he is making the right choice.

He gets back in touch with Seokjin, even though they attend different schools. It’s not that they really fell out of touch, it’s more that there was so much going on for him that Yoongi and the others just couldn’t quite relate to yet. But he can now. So they whine about science requirements and those people in lectures that don’t understand when a question is rhetorical. They chug caffeine and have weekend study dates and it’s great. It’s great, but Seokjin isn’t Namjoon.

He thinks about Namjoon a lot more than he thought he would, but finds he isn’t really surprised. Namjoon who is seventeen now and trying to decide what to do with his life when so many doors are open to him. Namjoon who used to do everything with him.

But he’s got things to distract himself. His roommate is super passive aggressive and trying to decipher what he’s pissed about this week takes up a good amount of time.

There’s studying, and he learns he needs to do more of that. His first semester is kind of a learning curve and he isn’t real happy with his marks. He figures out the hard way that all that extra time he isn’t in class isn’t free time.

He starts working on his own compositions. They aren’t great, but they’re getting better. He was so proud and full of himself when he got into university, thinking he knew what he was doing. It’s been a humbling experience but he’s grateful for it. He can look back on the things he made in high school, and though it makes him cringe, it also reminds him of how far he’s come.

He’s halfway through his second semester, his birthday is just around the corner, when namjoon calls. He ignores the flutter of his heart, it’s practically pavlovian at this point.

“I got into Seoul National,” He says.

“I wouldn’t expect any less,” Says Yoongi, trying to cover the pride in his voice with humour.

“I’m not gonna go,” Namjoon tells him, “I want to do music. Like you.”

Yoongi feels his heart do something uncharacteristic and he takes a moment to think over Namjoon’s words. Telling him not to do it because of his potential is stupid. He’ll see right through it because he listened to Yoongi rant when his parents gave him that same spiel last year.

But he really does have potential, and as much as the idea of having influenced Namjoon makes him swell with pride, the thought of pushing him towards an uncertain future pulls him back down to earth.

“I know you can do it, but is it really worth it?” He settles on.

“Was it worth it for you?” Namjoon counters.

“I didn’t get accepted into Seoul National.”

“Well, that just proves how serious I am about this. Can you room with a freshman next year, or is that not allowed?”

Yoongi doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so he tells Namjoon he’ll look into it and hangs up before he can do either.

Don’t think this is your fault. Namjoon messages later, it’s no one’s fault and it’s not a problem. I know you like to take responsibility for all the bad, but I think I’ve finally found something good. You’d better dote on me like the favourite dongsaeng I know I am.

Yoongi decides not to wallow in self-pity. Namjoon is capable of making his own decisions. Besides, he now has to worry about being around him full time. Shit.

It turns out that Namjoon can’t live with Yoongi, at least not until his second year. Yoongi is both thankful and sad. He still dotes on him, though. Hoseok complains that he plays favourites, but when Yoongi shrugs and tells him they’ve known each other longer it seems to be enough.

He shows Namjoon which lab has the best equipment and which computer chair is the least dangerous.

He talks him through what not to do with his free time between classes.

They grumble about how much harder it is to make music for a course than to write something for themselves.

They ease into the semester and it’s comfortable and easy and feels right.

The week leading up to Namjoon’s birthday, Yoongi finds excuses to be away from him. He’s sure his avoidance is transparent, but it’s better to hide from Namjoon than to let him see just how messed up he is.

Sometime during the few weeks since school started he forgot that they can’t work. It’s fine, it’s nothing new. But Yoongi still hasn’t heard from his soulmate and Namjoon is going to talk to his in a few days. He had hoped to have someone to dull the pain by this point, or to at least be in a position where his heart didn’t hurt looking at Namjoon.

But he’s not, and it does.

So the night before Namjoon turns eighteen Yoongi goes to bed early and tries not to cry over all the daydreams he’s had about spending a domestic forever with Namjoon since he was ten years old.

He does cry.

It’s cathartic, and gifts him with puffy eyes, a runny nose, and an awful headache. He falls asleep still hiccupping at around 9:00pm, and hopes he can be happy for his best friend.

Just after midnight he wakes up. He thinks life is cruel, and that the one night he attempts to get enough sleep his body has other plans. But then he feels the tingling on his wrist. At first he wants to ignore it, he’s so done with false hope. But the feeling remains, and it is moving in steady lines up his forearm. Before he can think too hard about things, he is switching on his bedside lamp and blinking hard to adjust to the influx of light.

On his left arm there are black lines stretching from the start of his wrist to nearly his elbow, none of the lines are straight and after a moment Yoongi deciphers them to be water. Slowly, a small rudimentary boat takes shape on top of the waves, completely with a tiny sail. Yoongi can't help but smile at the completed picture. Then he notices a strange multi-limbed blob taking shape underneath the boat. He's got no clue what it is supposed to be, and looking at it from different angles doesn't help at all. Suddenly, the mystery blob is scratched out and words start to form on his palm.

Sorry, I wanted to do something creative but I can't draw for shit. That was supposed to be an octopus...

No. Yoongi knows that writing. No. No. No.

I guess I should introduce myself,

There is no more room on Yoongi’s palm, but he can feel the writing carry over onto the back of his hand. He doesn't want to look. He knows what he’ll see. He holds out until he’s counted to 60 in his head. He knows he can't ignore it forever, even if he wants to so, so bad.

My name is Kim Namjoon. It's nice to finally meet you!

This can't be happening. Fate can't be this cruel, can it?

Yoongi knows that Namjoon will never love him back in the same way, has spent years reminding himself. To have Namjoon as a platonic soulmate is more than he can take.

Distance and the knowledge that there is someone else for them both is the only thing that keeps Yoongi going. Knowing that he's the perfect one for Namjoon, in a way that kills him to maintain is torture.

All of the years closing himself off from Namjoon are for nothing. He's not a fool, he knows he can't just be there for Namjoon platonically. Not that close. So what can he do?

Hey, are you sleeping?

Yoongi reads the words over a few times, remembering the nervous feeling in his gut on his own eighteenth birthday. And he hadn't even put himself out there with a strange sea creature drawing. He should answer Namjoon. He probably wouldn't even have to tell him his name.

But Yoongi is done suffering.

He can't do this, he can't be that person for Namjoon and it kills him. So he turns off his lamp and tries his best to go back to sleep.

He never does get there, and as the sun slowly rises and sheds light on his bedroom he eyes the writing on his arm. Namjoon has an early class this morning. Yoongi had warned him against taking anything before 9am but Namjoon assured him he could handle it. Yoongi had still gotten up to walk him to the first class so he knew where it was, even though he didn't have class himself until 10:30.

So unless he was skipping, Namjoon would be leaving soon. He wondered if Namjoon had made the same mistake as him, or if he’d wash the writing off before class.

At 7:55 the octopus blur and ocean began to disappear. The sailboat was next, followed by the writing until the only evidence of last nights discovery was the sinking feeling in the pit of Yoongi’s stomach.

He sent Namjoon a message at around 10:00 wishing him a happy birthday and asking if he'd found his soulmate.

Namjoon thanked him and informed him that he hadn’t heard anything yet, but maybe they were from a different timezone, somewhere exotic. It was good thing he was so good at languages, hey?

Yoongi feels tingling on his wrist again and makes sure to put on a hoodie and grab a pair of gloves before leaving for class, working on a plan for what to do next.

He stops in the bathroom between classes and hides away in a stall to check the writing on his wrist. Namjoon has written what Yoongi assumes is the equivalent of Hello, my name is Namjoon in five different languages. Yoongi smiles despite himself as he pulls his sleeve back in place and leaves for class.

The lady at the makeup store is nice, if not a little peppy. Yoongi planned his words all morning and he almost believes them when he speaks.

“Yeah, my soulmate has a really bad habit of writing things on himself. I wouldn’t mind, but I kind of need to stay professional for my work. I know he doesn’t mean to so I figured it’s probably for the best if I have something to cover up the marks just in case.” Yoongi roles up his sleeve to prove his point, “See? He was working on languages this morning.”

The lady coos at his situation and tries out some products on his arm, explaining how they work together and finding the right shade.

When he’s walking home Yoongi freaks out a little bit. Is he really going to do this? He’s made a lot of progress over the last few years, but he’s been miserable for a good portion of it. Does he really want to do this for the rest of his life? What if Namjoon tries to write on himself in front of Yoongi? What if Yoongi forgets and writes on himself? Won’t Namjoon eventually get suspicious if both of them don’t have anyone? There’s no way they can be roommates now.

But then Yoongi thinks of telling Namjoon. Of writing something back, calling Namjoon pretentious for writing in all those languages. He thinks of the moment Namjoon realizes what Yoongi is, and telling him that he always knew they would be best friends forever.

He’ll take concealer for his skin and feelings over that any day.

×

Namjoon takes a lot longer than Yoongi to give up on getting a response. For the first few months, he just leaves the same translations in the same spot. Then he comes to the conclusion that his soulmate might not have that limb, and he begins writing the message on his stomach. Yoongi doesn’t really mind, it’s a lot easier to cover up.

It’s about six months before Namjoon stops writing at all, and Yoongi feels a little guilty about crushing his hopes. Sometimes he talks about the sort of things he wants to do with his soulmate, and those conversations always leave him feeling hollow. Would Namjoon still want to plan picnics and write songs if he knew Yoongi was his? It makes Yoongi hold onto his plan a little tighter, really. It would hurt too much to see Namjoon go back on all his romantic plans. If Yoongi was stronger, he’d encourage Namjoon to find someone. Remind him that his soulmate might be platonic and either way they wouldn’t want him to put his entire life on hold. But he isn’t that strong, so he hopes Namjoon figures it out on his own.

He struggles with himself and his decision a lot over the next few years, thinks about how much easier it would be if Namjoon was just happy with someone else. With every passing day it becomes harder to come clean.

Yoongi graduates and gets a job at a music label. They don’t trust him with much yet, and most of the time he feels like a glorified intern. But he’s moving forward. He tries going on a few dates, but he always ends up comparing them to Namjoon or being overwhelmed with guilt that he’s trying to be happy when Namjoon isn’t.

×

It’s past midnight when Yoongi wakes up to an intense tingling on his lower back. He checks the time on his phone and groans in frustration. He tries to go back to sleep but the tingling only gets more intense. There’s no way he’s getting out of bed. So instead, Yoongi thinks about everything he’s done in the last few days, tries to come up with anything out of the ordinary that might have caused him back pain. Eventually he grows numb to the feeling and drifts off to sleep.

Yoongi doesn’t notice until he is getting into the shower the next morning. He’s meeting Hoseok, Namjoon, and Seokjin for brunch or something equally as pretentious and wants to be at least semi presentable. His shower is directly opposite the mirror in his bathroom, which is convenient, because it enables him to get a peak of black on his back as he’s about to get in. He maneuvers himself to get a better look at what the hell is written near the base of his spine.

There is a grotesquely detailed fish that spans the width of his back, and it’s creepy as hell to look at. Even from his strained over the shoulder angle the fish seems to be looking right at him. Underneath his new fish friend are the words Nice Bass written in an awful font that looks better suited to a bumper sticker on a jacked-up truck.

Kim fucking Namjoon.

Chapter Text

Yoongi is seething as he gets ready. What was Namjoon thinking? What was the tattoo artist thinking? They don’t even let people get tattoos without the consent of their soul – oh.

Right.

This whole lying to Namjoon for the sake of his heart is really coming back to bite him in the ass at every turn.

With a resigned sigh, he focuses on finding something to wear that won’t reveal his new tramp stamp. He tucks a white undershirt into his ripped jeans and digs his way into the depths of his closet to find the sweater a distant relative had gifted him with misconceptions about his stature. It goes down to his knees, and he has to roll up the sleeves a few times, but one can never be too safe.

When Yoongi finally makes it into the cafe they are meant to meet at, he’s managed to school his features into something blank, unconcerned. He spots his friends with little difficulty, seated around a rather small round table near the back of the building. Hoseok is sitting limply, leaned back against the wall as if he needs it to stay vertical. Namjoon is laying facedown on the table, wearing a loose hoody, back purposefully not touching his chair. Yoongi can only see the back of Seokjin’s head, but he appears to be faring better than either of them.

Of course alcohol played a part in this disaster. Yoongi quickly decides to take what little vengeance he can, smacking Namjoon’s lower back a little harder than necessary as he announces himself. “Hey, rough night everyone?” he asks a bit too loud, taking a sick sort of pleasure in the whine Namjoon lets out, and the flinch Hoseok makes at his words.

“Not for me, though watching these two wallow in the misery of their poor decisions has been a great start to my day.” True to his word, Seokjin looks not-hungover, and pretty smug in general. “Nice sweater dress by the way, but I thought those were more of a fall trend.”

Yoongi takes the high road, rubbing the corner of his eye with a middle finger as he takes a seat between Namjoon and Seokjin.

“I don’t think last night is something I’ll be able to forget.” Hoseok intones with dead eyes.

“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” Namjoon adds, slowly sitting upright.

“Why’s that?” Yoongi hopes his poker face is holding up. Namjoon meets his eyes for a moment, and he looks - well, he looks queasy. But also a little embarrassed, like he really doesn’t want to answer the question. Yoongi almost backs off, but he’s suffering too. “Don’t give me that look, what happened?”

Namjoon lets out a long sigh, eyes shifting back to the table, “I - I got a tattoo.”

“What?” Seokjin sounds genuinely shocked, and Yoongi scrunches his eyebrows in a way meant to convey the same feeling.

“It wasn’t - I didn’t - I was really drunk, and you know how persuasive Hoseok can be…”

“Hey, no. It was your idea. I was drunk too. I simply encouraged what seemed like a great plan at the time.” Hoseok defends, though he looks apologetic.

“I wasn’t in my right mind before drinking. I just get really bummed out about not having a soulmate sometimes, you know?” Well. This is going at least 28x worse than Yoongi anticipated. “I dunno how you do it hyung, but it really gets to me. I was whining to Hoseok and he was giving me all this ‘ your freedom is not a burden ’ and ‘ you can do anything you want with no repercussions! ’ which I obviously took to mean I should get a tattoo.”

“Why the hell did they let you get a tattoo wasted?” Yoongi questions.

Namjoon’s face goes red, and Hoseok speaks for him. “He tried talking us out of it, said ‘ don’t you want to talk to your soulmate about this first?’ but then Namjoon started sobbing, and I think he thought the situation was a lot worse than it really was and he said he’d do it. Gave Namjoon a huge discount too.”

Yoongi feels awful. Namjoon got sad drunk and cried until a tattoo artist gave in to his drunk fish-pun whims. When Yoongi had made the decision to keep all this soulmate stuff to himself, this was never something he planned on taking responsibility for.

"Is it really that bad not having a soulmate?" Yoongi tries to ask lightly, but his stomach feels heavy.

Namjoon is still blushing. He sighs before answering, "I mean, it's not great. I honestly don't know how you can keep it from getting to you, hyung."

“It’s not that big of a deal. I can’t put everything on hold for them. And with how long it’s taking them to show up, I’m starting to think they’re probably platonic.” Yoongi explains.

“It’s honestly getting ridiculous, I’m starting to get worried that we won’t relate to or understand each other because we’ll be so far apart in age.” Namjoon says with a pout, and Yoongi is far more endeared than he wants to be.

“I call BS on that,” Hoseok begins, “We were born months apart and I have no idea what you’re talking about at least 80% of the time.”

“And ice cream sales and murder rates both go up at the same time. Correlation doesn’t equal causation, Hoseok.” Namjoon retorts.

Hoseok makes an affronted noise and gestures at Namjoon, looking back and forth between Seokjin and Yoongi.

“He’s got a point, Joon-ah.” Yoongi says with a smile, fighting back laughter when Namjoon turns an offended look in his direction.

“I’m just saying, don’t blame your quirks on an age difference. I’m sure they’ll think the sun shines out your ass regardless.”

“Ah, Hoseok. Always so eloquent. But back to the point,” Seokjin redirects, “what tattoo did you get?”

“That’s, umm. It’s… It’s a water inspired piece. With a related quotation. On my… spine?” Namjoon isn’t convincing anyone.

“Just show them,” Hoseok says.

“I’m not showing them in public…”

“You gave up every ounce of pride in your body when you got the tramp stamp.” Hoseok is merciless.

“ No ,” Yoongi has never seen Seokjin’s eyes open so wide, “Please Namjoon, tell me you didn’t.”

Namjoon responds with a whimper, and Seokjin sinks in his seat.

“Maybe we should just get some food,” Yoongi suggests, and Namjoon looks grateful.

×

It takes Yoongi a few minutes of aimless walking to gather the courage to ask the question that is burning in the back of his mind.

"Does it really bother you that much to not have a soulmate?"

Lunch had gone well, no one mentioned the tattoo again which made things a little tense, but overall less stressful for everyone.

Namjoon and Yoongi are walking together. Hoseok and Seokjin had both mysteriously come up with reasons to bail just as they finished eating, leaving the two of them with a free afternoon instead of the planned group movie. Yoongi had his doubts about the legitimacy of their excuses, especially with the not-so-subtle looks they were giving each other, but he'll have to deal with that later. Yoongi can see Namjoon starting to blush, and he looks up while thinking.

"Yesterday was worse than usual."

"Seeing as this is your first tramp stamp, I kind of gathered that."

"Hyung." Namjoon sounds a little offended, but mostly just embarrassed.

"Sorry, just - I didn't realize it was so bad for you. Why is this the first I'm hearing of things?"

"Because you just don't seem to be bothered by it. We're both in the same situation. Really, you've been waiting longer than me. But it never gets to you, I don't know if you've ever even talked about it without prompting. I feel whiny, and... it just feels strange, I guess."

It's funny, Yoongi thinks, how his constant inner turmoil comes across as indifference. It's really for the best, but it sucks that it makes Namjoon not want to tell him this stuff. "Why does it feel strange? We spent our whole childhoods asking each other questions about this kind of thing."

Namjoon smiles at this, one of those subtle dimpled ones that makes Yoongi feel like he doesn't have quite enough oxygen in his lungs. "We did, didn't we. I started a list from the good ones, you know that? They were more like a back up plan though, in case... well. Yeah. Just, things were nice then, you know? All the potential, none of the disappointment. I thought I'd be done waiting once I finally turned eighteen."

What was Yoongi thinking? That it was sad Namjoon didn't want to talk to him about this stuff? Screw that, there's a good reason they haven't talked about this. God, Namjoon deserves so much better. It's humbling how wrong Namjoon is about this soulmate he's so fixated on. "You can't think like that Joon. They're just a person, they aren't your life. Stop giving them so much power."

"I wish it was that easy. I spent eighteen years daydreaming about a person, but they were my   person, you know?" Yoongi does. "It's stupid, and illogical. I know, I know. That's another reason I haven't said anything. It's dumb." Namjoon hasn't made eye contact since they started talking.

"You're right, it is dumb. Do you need saving? Joon, you're the best person I know. You're smart, and kind, and ca - well, mostly capable. Maybe having a person would be nice, but you can't depend on them to make you who you are. That's all on you." Yoongi isn't sure if he's frustrated at the situation or himself, but he knows it's not Namjoon. He grew up with Namjoon, he knows exactly how romanticized this idea was for both of them. The only reason Yoongi sees things any differently now is because he couldn't let go when he was sixteen.

Namjoon finally looks up, and he looks a little hurt. Damn it, Yoongi is doing it again. Throwing his frustration at Namjoon when he doesn't deserve it. No wonder they don't talk about this sort of stuff. Yoongi is such a mess.

"I-I'm sorry, Joon. It's... I know what you mean. I get it, it just pisses me off to see you so hurt by something that I can't fix for you." That's it Yoongi, keep lying.

"It's ok. You've always been my fixer, haven't you?" Namjoon offers up another dimpled smile, but his eyes are still a little sad. Yoongi finds his heart hurting along with his lungs this time.

"Always will be," His words are genuine, but the smile takes some effort. "Now are you gonna tell me what this tattoo is?"

"No. I don't want to think about it ever again. It no longer exists."

"You planning on never going swimming again? No more sex? You gonna be one of those people that keeps their shirt on no matter what?" Yoongi should really not be thinking about Namjoon having sex, regardless of the amount of clothing involved.

"Yeah. Three people have seen this tattoo including me, if no one else ever does that will still be too many. I'll live in a rash guard if I have to."

"That sounds hygienic." Yoongi is smiling, "You know I could just ask Hoseok, right?"

"You could, but then I would never speak to either of you again. Also I'm already texting him not to tell you."

"So there's really no way I'll ever figure out what it is?" Yoongi puts on a discouraged look, and Namjoon sighs when he catches it.

"If you can guess it right, I'll show it to you." If only Namjoon knew.

"I can live with that," he says, then, "where are we going by the way?"

"I dunno. We're headed towards the theatre though, do you want to just watch the movie ourselves?" Namjoon sounds hopeful.

"Uh, sure." Only about 32 of Yoongi's teenage daydreams revolved around simple afternoon dates like this. It's not like they never went to movies, they've done that plenty of times when they were young. But there was something about seeing a movie together as soulmates that just made the whole thing a different experience altogether. Yoongi almost scoffs aloud at how ridiculous the logic seems to him now, as he lives it out.

They order the same line-up of snacks they'd always get as kids, and Yoongi spends the whole movie wanting just to hold Namjoon's hand.

×

"When are you gonna tell him?"

It’s been a few weeks since the tattoo incident, and Yoongi no longer has a mini heart attack each time he takes a shower. Seokjin had invited Yoongi over for lunch, and he isn’t the type to turn down free food. Which is why he finds himself sprawled across Seokjin's couch on his phone, with absolutely no clue what or who Seokjin is talking about. All Yoongi knows for sure is that he doesn’t like the tentative tone Seokjin’s voice has taken.

"Tell who what?"

"Namjoon." Yoongi's stomach drops. There's no way Seokjin knows. It's been years, and he's been obsessively careful.

"What am I telling Namjoon?" He asks, continuing to scroll on his phone though he's no longer paying attention.

"That you're his soulmate."

Yoongi does his best face scrunch while his heart demands it be heard, "Where'd you come up with that?"

"You're really gonna lie to me too?"

"Why would I be his soulmate? Don't you think I would have said something by now? You really think I'd lie all this time just to, what, hurt Namjoon? Cheat myself out of a soulmate? That's ridiculous!" Yoongi rants when he panics, and he's panicking. The look on Seokjin's face makes it clear he's aware.

"Hobi and I figured it out quite a while ago, we’ve just been waiting to see if you’d deal with this mess on your own.”

Maybe Yoongi wasn’t as thorough as he thought. “Does Jimin know too?”

“No. Neither does Tae. They don’t know you the same way Hoseok and I do. Besides, I figured it would be easier on everyone if less people knew about this before Namjoon.”

It feels a lot like a bad dream, and Yoongi still isn’t entirely sure this is really happening. Seokjin’s loud sigh breaks him out of his thoughts.

“Come help me chop veggies. Jimin and Taehyung are out having lunch, Hoseok will be here in a few minutes and we can talk about this.”

Yoongi nods and moves to get up, wondering if he’ll ever swallow down the lump in his throat.

×

“What gave me away?”

Seokjin and Hoseok have played nice long enough for them to be sitting at Seokjin’s dining room table eating, all tiptoeing around the elephant in the room.

“Well, it was more like an accumulation of things we couldn’t ignore.” Hoseok explains.

“Like?”

“Like how you started wearing gloves all the time everywhere right after Namjoon’s eighteenth birthday?”

“I don’t think you’ve gone swimming since then, either.”

“There was that one time I was studying with Namjoon in the library, he tested a pen on his palm, and you jumped up from your table across the room staring at your hand before you ran out of the room.”

“You carry heavy-duty foundation with you everywhere you go.”

“Okay, I get it. Not as subtle as I thought. But was I okay around Namjoon at least?”

“You’ve always been a terrible actor, Yoongi. You really think that was going to change overnight? Especially with something involving Namjoon?” Seokjin probably doesn’t intend to sound as condescending as he does.

“If I’m so bad how come Namjoon doesn’t know already, huh?” Yoongi knows how defensive he sounds, but it’s a logical question.

“It’s a good thing you two are made for each other, I’m not sure who else would be able to put up with this shit.” Seokjin says, taking a bite of his lunch.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yoongi is speeding past defensive and gaining on irrationally offended.

“It means, he’s got his head as far up his ass as you do. Your own ass, not his. That would be an entirely different problem I want no part in.” Hoseok shivers in his seat.

“How so?” Yoongi grits out the words.

“He’s too busy lamenting that you aren’t his soulmate to see through your bullshit.” Seokjin explains.

What? Namjoon wants him to be his soulmate? “You can’t know that’s what he wants.”

“Yeah, actually, I can. Why the hell are you doing all this anyways? Everyone knows you’ve been in love with him since, well, always. That’s why it took us more than a few minutes to figure out you were lying to everyone. What could your motive possibly be?”

“He-he doesn’t want me like that.” Yoongi realizes this is the first time he’s allowed himself to say those words out loud. It hurts.

“Says who?!” Hoseok near shouts, and Yoongi flinches at the volume.

“Says.. him?” Yoongi doesn’t really want to relive his worst moments, but they aren’t giving him much of a choice. “I used to always ask him questions about his soulmate and one day he answered about a girl.”

There’s a brief silence, and Yoongi prepares himself for the pity he’s sure is on its way.

“You’re fucking with me.” Seokjin intones, and Yoongi isn’t quite sure what’s happening anymore.

“No? He was talking about a girl I heard it loud and -”

“You’re honestly telling me you’ve built years of deceit and self pity on an offhand remark.”

“It’s not an offhand remark it’s-it’s what he wants. I can’t compete with a preference, hyung.”

Hoseok leans across the table, “He was what, fourteen, fifteen? Didn’t you ever see a celebrity or something when you were young and daydream about them being your soulmate?”

Yoongi thinks on this for a moment, “No,” he starts, “It’s always been Joon.”

Seokjin lets out an offended groan. “Stop this self-sabotage and work out your shit already, Yoongi.”

“Seriously, you know he’s actually happy he got that awful tattoo?” Hoseok says.

Yoongi thinks about the monstrosity taking up the entirety of his lower back. “ Why ?”

“Because you talked to him. ‘ Maybe it was for the best, you know? Hyung actually talked to me like he used to.’ Seriously, what is with you two. It’s gross.”

“I’ve been a shitty friend, that doesn’t mean he wants me as his soulmate. He just wants what we used to have, but I can’t live like that. I can’t be platonic with him, not that close. I just can’t. Do you think I like this? I’m fucking miserable. I’ve spent literal years trying to get over Namjoon, I can’t be that close to him. Nothing will hurt as much as that.” Yoongi is fighting tears by the time he finishes talking, but there’s no way he’s going to stick around long enough to let that happen.

This was a waste of time. Seokjin and Hoseok know, but they don’t. Not really. They’re stuck up on their high horses looking down on Yoongi doing what he has to. They’ve been judging him for years and they’ll keep doing it and they’re just gonna have to take a number because he’s been handling that fine all by himself. It’s like they don’t care about him at all, like they can’t see how much this is hurting him. They’d rather he sacrifice the small piece of his heart he has left, than to leave Namjoon ignorant.

He’s out the door before Seokjin or Hoseok can force him to stay, and he’s too frustrated to catch anything they say on his way out.

Chapter Text

The trip home gives Yoongi a little time to cool off, but he’s still feeling emotionally charged and would rather not breakdown or shutdown on public transportation. So even though he can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, he holds off on checking until he's safe in his own apartment.

As soon as he's in the door, he slides back against it. His butt on the floor, legs sprawled, and heart heavy. There's three texts, four missed calls, and two voice mails. Yoongi takes a deep breath before starting on the texts.

U know gay and straight aren't the only options on the checklist, right??? :/

Even when he’s pissed Hoseok can't seem to let the emojis go.

You’re too busy being miserable to realize how unnecessary it is. You won't listen to anything but your own self-pity, I don't know why I even bother trying to help you.

Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe.

All of the missed calls are from Hoseok.

“Hey hyung, are you really gone? You’re just gonna leave in the middle of this? Call me when you get this.”

“Jin hyung told me to stop calling. I'm sorry if we didn't take your point of view seriously, and I get it if you need time. We’re both here when- if you’re ready to talk. Just, think about what we said too, okay? It's gonna be okay, hyung.”

It's almost comical, how different they handle Yoongi. He can see care and concern through both of them, and feels a pang of guilt over his actions. But there is nothing to be done about it now. He could apologize, but it feels a little soon to seem sincere. His blood is still a little too hot for it to come across the way it should.

Yoongi doesn’t talk to Seokjin or Hoseok. He gets up, gets ready, goes to work. Tries his best to stay focused. For the most part he succeeds. He calls someone by the wrong name, and spends way longer than usual trying to fix a simple layering mistake, but all things considered it could be worse. He goes home, and sometimes he eats something. Then he goes to bed. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Yoongi thinks he’s getting away with this, that he can forget the confrontation. He’s coming to terms with his new life of complete isolation. He knows it’s dramatic, but what can he do?

It’s been two weeks with no contact when his new hermit life plan is interrupted.

“Hyung, you gotta let me in. Seriously, you haven’t talked to anyone in weeks. Have you even left your building? Do you still have a job?” Taehyung has been standing outside for nearly ten minutes. Yoongi is trying his best to pretend he isn’t home, but he sneezed a little while back and now Taehyung won’t leave.

“Honestly, if anyone can relate to you right now it’s me. I can’t believe no one told me sooner. That I didn’t figure it out myself. Why didn’t you talk to me?” Taehyung sounds hurt, and it’s honestly wearing Yoongi down. He’s hurt enough people.

“You’re just gonna keep ignoring me? You really want to play that way?” No, no he doesn’t. Yoongi can only imagine what type of game Taehyung thinks they are playing. But he really doesn’t want to face the shitstorm that is his life, either. While he’s debating his options, Taehyung takes the silence as a challenge.

“I LOVED YOU YOU ASSHOLE! I WOULD HAVE GIVEN YOU THE WORLD! AND YOU SHREDDED MY HEART. DID IT HAVE TO BE MY SISTER, MIN YOONGI APARTMENT ROOM 308? THAT’S JUST WRONG. I COULD HAVE FORGIVEN YOU IF NOT FOR ALL THE DRU-”

Yoongi has the door open before Taehyung can finish screaming the colourful narrative.

×

“You know it’s not worth it, right?”

Taehyung is sitting on Yoongi’s couch, moving old takeout containers out of the way so he has a place to set his tea down on the coffee table.

“You say that now. After the fact. Since everything has turned out the way it has.”

“Chalk it up to hindsight all you want, I regret what I did.” Yoongi almost has enough self-control to keep from rolling his eyes.

“Because what you did was stupid!”

“Really? You’re gonna call me out?”

Yoongi lets out a sigh. “I just don’t think you can tell me what I’ll regret when you have your happy ending.”

Taehyung runs a hand down his face, thinking over  his words. “Okay, sure. But let’s think about your situation. There are two options here: Namjoon is the most patient platonic friend in existence and has put up with your crap for the last decade out of the goodness of his heart. Or, he cares about you too and he’s been going through hell all this time while you push him away.”

“He doesn’t-”

“Ah, ah. You aren’t Namjoon. You don’t speak for him. Let’s just work through both situations.” Yoongi bites his lip, but nods. “So if the first option is true, what would telling him the truth do?”

“He’d want something I couldn’t handle giving him. That would-it’d be too much for me.”

“The whole truth, hyung.” Taehyung’s voice is soft. “Not just the soulmate part.”

“He wouldn’t want anything to do with me. It would make everything weird and he’d never want to talk to me again.”

“That sounds a little extreme. Do you really think that’s what he’d do? Even after how he's treated you all this time?”

No. That doesn't sound like Namjoon. Namjoon has been so great that it hurts. Yoongi doesn't answer.

“You know what I think, hyung? I think if Namjoon really doesn't like you then he’ll give you space and distance and do whatever he can to make things easier for you. Platonic or not, you’re his soulmate. He's been with you since you were little, he's not just gonna drop you.”

Okay. Yoongi can see where Taehyung is coming from. But how could Namjoon be that… good. Sometimes it’s hard for Yoongi to believe that he’s real. He’s so sweet, ridiculous, and utterly endearing. He’s put up with a lot of shit over the years because of Yoongi, sure. But he has to break sometime. And immediately after hearing about Yoongi’s true feelings seems like as good a time as any.

“Okay, so that’s one scenario. Now let’s suppose that Namjoon does care about you in a romantic way.” Yoongi scoffs. Taehyung lays it out on the table like it’s possible, like it’s something Yoongi hasn’t wished or imagined for years. “Not gonna lie, he’ll be pretty upset.”

“Well, doesn’t matter because he doesn’t-”

“Hyung.”

“Fine. Keep going.”

“Either way he’ll be pissed, really. If he doesn’t like you, he’ll be mad you couldn’t come to him for all that time, and that he’s been moping about a soulmate he already has. If he does, then he’ll be pissed because he’s spent eight years pining when he could’ve been getting dick.”

“Jesus, Taehyung. You really gotta say it like that? This isn’t even about sex.” Taehyung gives him a look. “Okay, it’s mostly not about sex.”

“Fine. Loving dick. Candlelit boning with breakfast the next morning.” Taehyung is making a face that Yoongi assumes is supposed to come across as sexy, but he’s not convinced.

Yoongi sighs, “I didn’t do this to hurt him. It’s what’s best.”

“Yoongi. Hyung. I missed out on so much sappy screwing because I was too dumb to consider that my perspective might not be the only one in existence. Now, I’ve made it a goal of mine to make up for lost time - but things worked themselves out for me a lot sooner than for you, so I don’t know if your body could keep up with that sort of standard.”

“Is there a point or are you just bragging?”

Taehyung pouts, “my point is, just tell him. In either situation telling him will be better than the hell you’ve been living in all these years.”

“You don’t know that. Your scenarios are guesses at best, it could ruin everything. I’d rather live in this miserable ambiguity than risk a miserable certainty.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows are furrowed, and Yoongi thinks this might be the most frustrated he’s ever seen him.

“Really? You’d rather ruin both of your lives? You have that much pride? You’re denser than I thought.” He’s getting up to leave now, and Yoongi feels a little bad at pissing him off so much. “Just, get your act together. Tell him before he finds out on his own-that would break his heart more than you’ve managed already.” With one last conflicted look and a door slam, Taehyung is gone.

×

Yoongi wishes that he’s better at blocking out the things his friends say. It’s been a long time since he’s thought too deeply about the idea of Namjoon ever caring about him as more than a friend. Now that three people have forced him to think about it, it’s insanely hard to stop. The possibilities are endless and so, so heartbreaking.

They could cook dinner together. Namjoon is a terrible cook so after a while Yoongi would tell him to stop trying to sabotage and leave. Namjoon would move to a barstool at the island and keep Yoongi company as he makes Namjoon’s favourite. They’d wash dishes together later with music playing in the background so they can sing along terribly as they work.

They could spend a lazy afternoon on Yoongi’s couch. Namjoon would read a book and Yoongi would lay back with his feet in Namjoon’s lap. Namjoon would get that scrunchy concentration face that Yoongi loves so much. Yoongi would smile watching, writing down the first lyrics to a love song he’s put off in favour of broken hearted poetry over the years.

They would find a way to arrange both of their sets of music equipment in Yoongi’s spare bedroom turned office space. They would mock each other’s choices in products, bicker at how things should go. They would make the space theirs.

They would get ready for bed together. Namjoon would look adorable in the stretched out t shirts and boxers he wears to bed. Even moreso when he wraps his arms around Yoongi from behind and rests his head on Yoongi’s shoulder-or his head, if he’s feeling cheeky-while Yoongi finishes brushing his teeth.

Fuck, it hurts.

×

When Namjoon texts Yoongi, he isn’t entirely sure how much time has passed. Days have started to run together, and all his energy goes into handling the responsibilities he can’t neglect as an independent adult.

Hey hyung, I haven’t heard from you in a while.

I was just remembering how fun it was when we went to see that movie and thought maybe you’d want to do something again?

I mean, only if you want to.

If you even enjoyed it.

I dunno, It was just a really good day for me and I thought maybe you’d had fun too.

Yoongi is high on heartbreak and loneliness, and responds accordingly.

Of course. I’m free all weekend.

×

This is a terrible idea.

By the time Yoongi had the frame of mind to realize what he had said to Namjoon, it was too late to back out.

He doesn’t really want to back out either, which is part of the problem.

His friends have planted some unrealistic ideas in his head and now he’s going to hang out with the focus of those ideas. He’s repeating to himself that Namjoon doesn’t like him like a depressing mantra up until he spots Namjoon in the park they are meant to meet at.

“Hyung!” Namjoon is waving at him with that dimpled grin, and Yoongi is smiling despite himself.

They wander around for an hour or so, just talking. Mostly it’s commentary on their surroundings, but some of it is personal as well. Nothing too deep, which just reminds Yoongi how far they’ve fallen over the years. Namjoon tells him about the best pancake he’s had in his life at an unassuming cafe they walk by, and Yoongi shows Namjoon his favourite piece of graffiti in the area. Yoongi feels strangely proud when Namjoon loves it too.

It’s just cold enough that Yoongi doesn’t look suspicious keeping his hands in his pockets. It’s a good thing too, because he’d probably do something stupid like try to hold Namjoon’s hand if they weren’t. It’s also just cold enough that Namjoon’s cheeks and nose are getting a little red. Yoongi keeps talking to keep his mouth distracted and not trying to kiss warmth back into them.

Namjoon hears Yoongi’s teeth chatter, and suggests they go back to his place. Yoongi ignores the ridiculous flutter in his stomach to agree.

They stop for coffee on the walk back to warm them up and Namjoon calls for pizza so they won’t have to wait long once they’re at his place.

Namjoon’s place is something. Yoongi doesn’t come here much, for obvious reason, but he would know its owner anywhere. It looks a little tidier than Yoongi would anticipate given the state of Namjoon’s room when they were growing up. He wonders if Namjoon cleaned up for him, but brushes the thought off.

There is a bookshelf full of books, CD’s, and even a plant. The plant isn’t looking so good, but Yoongi’s sure the whole set up looked rather aesthetic when it was healthy. There is an excessive amount of duct tape wrapped around a crooked coffee table leg, and his lamp cover has a tear in the material.

“I thought I was your fixer? This is just sad Joon-ah.”

Namjoon looks sheepish, “I just didn’t want to bother you, hyung. I wasn’t sure if-yeah. Okay. I’ll call you next time.”

Yoongi doesn’t let the pang of guilt overtake him. Namjoon is wary of him, has been for years now. He can’t have a breakdown everytime it comes up.

The pizza arrives soon after, and they settle in on the couch. Namjoon has an artsy movie he wants to show Yoongi, so they watch it while they eat. It feels really, really nice. Yoongi has missed Namjoon so much and it’s nice that they can just hang out like this after everything.

“We should do this more.” Namjoon says as he goes to wipe his greasy hands on his pants, but the disgusted look on Yoongi’s face stops him. He laughs and gets up to wash his hands.

“Yeah. We should. It’s really nice, you’re nice.” Smooth, Yoongi.

Namjoon flops back onto the couch, handing Yoongi a sheet of paper towel. “You’re not so bad yourself. Well, now at least.”

“Excuse you? I’m a delight.” Yoongi throws the now dirty paper towel back at Namjoon.

“Yeah, yeah you are. Just not with me.” God, he sounds hurt. Yoongi bites his lip in lieu of responding, and the room falls into silence.

“It’s not you-not really.” Yoongi says finally, not sure what else he can say.

“That doesn’t explain a damn thing, hyung.”

“We were having such a good time, Joonie. Do you really want to get into this?” Yoongi is begging, he hopes Namjoon can’t tell.

“Yes. Because this is one of the first good times we’ve had in nearly a decade. You avoid me like the plague whenever possible and when you can’t you’re cold and distant like we weren’t best friends.”

“Well, we can’t always get what we want, okay? I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“You’re not though! This isn’t you! This is some half-assed shell that won’t even look me in the eye and tell me what the hell I did wrong to deserve this!” Namjoon’s voice gets progressively louder, and he looks somewhere between tears and shutting down. Fuck, Yoongi can’t have anything good can he?

Not even Namjoon.

But god, does he want him. Wants to smooth the wrinkles of frustration out of his forehead, to hold him until his body relaxes. He’s still talking, he must be. Yoongi can see his lips moving, but he’s not paying attention to anything he’s saying.

Before he can think things through he’s leaning in, hand on either side of Namjoon’s face and kissing him. It’s so hard he feels it on his teeth, a painful colliding of lips that does nothing but increase his heart rate and stop Namjoon’s talking.

In the second it takes to pull away, Yoongi realizes what he’s done, what it means. The implications wash over him in an ice bath, everything he’s worked so hard to hide behind shattered in an instant. He opens his eyes and Namjoon is staring back. He struggles to form words, to come up with a reasonable explanation in this unreasonable situation, but then Namjoon is kissing him back.

He’s kissing him back and it still hurts. It’s more than the crash course Yoongi initiated, lips and teeth pressing ten years worth of frustration and hurt into one another. Yoongi is kissing back. Teeth on a lower lip, fingers in hair-they meet each other blow for blow. It’s not enough, and it’s so intense that Yoongi backs off for breath.

Forehead to forehead, exchanging shaky exhales they work to steady their hearts. Then Namjoon is speaking, “I don’t care about it hyung, I’ll give it all up in an instant.” Yoongi is still piecing together the words when Namjoon continues, “It doesn’t matter who my soulmate is, they could never be you. No one could be you and I-I don’t want them if they aren’t you. It’s always been you for me.” Yoongi’s stomach is in his throat, the rollercoaster of emotions wreaking havoc on his insides.

He thinks about just kissing him back, just playing along. He could return the sentiment. Tell Namjoon he doesn’t want someone else either. That would be the easy fix right now.

But it’s not realistic, unless he plans on never letting Namjoon see his back, ever. And it’s too much. He’s strung this out too long. Especially now that he knows how Namjoon feels. Shit, Namjoon likes him. How the hell did that happen? He doesn’t deserve this, oh god. Poor Namjoon. If he likes Yoongi now, he’ll change his mind the moment he finds out.

“Hyung? I’m sorry, was that too much? I’ve been in love with you since I was a teenager, god I sound so creepy. It’s not like-”

“It’s a fish.” Yoongi isn’t sure how he gets the words out, but he already wants to take them back.

“Huh?” Namjoon looks confused, and Yoongi can’t really blame him. It’s an abrupt conversation shift.

Yoongi takes in a shaky breath. Gets one more look at Namjoon’s face, before he ruins everything. Again.

“The tattoo on your lower back. It’s a fish, and it says ‘nice bass’ underneath.”

Namjoon doesn’t seem to get it. “Hoseok is such a snitch. How much did you pay him to tell you, hyung?”

“He didn’t tell me, Joonie.”

Namjoon’s face falls. “What do you mean? How do you know then?”

“Because it’s on my back too. Just like all the messages you’ve written over the years.” Yoongi is thankful for the tears blurring his vision. Hearing what Namjoon says next is hard enough, seeing it might destroy him for good.

“You need to leave.” His voice is so cold Yoongi flinches.

“I didn’t mean to-it’s not like that!”

“Like what? Like you’ve been treating me like shit for a decade and hiding the fact that you’re my-my fucking soulmate for eight of them? Like you let me believe I deserved any of this? Do you have any idea how excited I was when you didn’t find your soulmate on your birthday?”

“But you didn’t like me, you-you couldn’t like me.”

“ No , you don’t get to turn this into a fucking pity party. You want to know what I think? Try asking me next time. I can’t believe you just-I can’t, I can’t do this. You need to leave.”

Namjoon sounds teary now too, but Yoongi is nearly sobbing.

He’s at the door, Namjoon is sitting on his couch with his head in his hands. “I-I’m so sorry, Joonie. I never wanted to hurt you, that was never what this was about. I just, god I’m so sorry.” Namjoon doesn’t answer, and Yoongi quietly closes the door behind him.

Chapter Text

Yoongi takes that Monday off. He's always been a little bit of an overworker, and has enough sick days stockpiled that he doesn't feel too bad about it. Hoseok used to ask why he never took time off, and had laughed when Yoongi said he was saving them up.

What could you possibly be saving them up for?  He would ask, and Yoongi could only shrug.

The future is uncertain, and preparing for as many variations of it as possible is one of the only ways he can exert control in the shitshow of a life he's created.

Well, it looks like he's got his answer for Hoseok now, though he's sure Hoseok would prefer he never had a reason to use the days if he knew this is what it would take for Yoongi to take some time for himself.

He doesn't have any plans to leave his bed for as much of the day as he can get away with. He thinks it’ll make him feel better, but really it gives him space to think about nothing else. After a few hours ruminating on how shitty things have turned out, he can’t take it anymore. He considers writing a song, something about what he’s feeling. But he’s been doing that for years and there are only so many ways for him to say the same thing.

He can’t just sit here though, and he needs to get some of the toxic ideas out of his head. He grabs a nearby half-filled notebook, flipping to an empty page about halfway through and searches out his favourite pen. There’s no prose, no beauty in the language. Just a word vomit of apology and explanation. The things he could never say.

There’s something about speaking feelings, about disclosing the things closest to his heart to the one closest to his heart, it’s near impossible. He could practice, memorize, and recite for hours. The moment he sees Namjoon all that would fly out the window. It’s frustrating, because there’s so much that he wants to say, needs to say. And handing off a letter in lieu of talking seems like a cop out as well.

Either way, it’s a moot point because Namjoon wants nothing to do with him. The worst part of this all is that he knows what he’s been missing all these years now. By some miracle, it wasn’t one sided. By some miracle, Namjoon wanted him too.

Everything's a mess.

×

The apology letter is fairly therapeutic, though it’s message is hard to follow and it ends up being nearly four pages long. It’s almost as chaotic as his mind, but it does help.

He goes back to work the next day, realizing a distraction will be more beneficial than the misery that is slowly becoming his go to.

On Wednesday, Namjoon writes a note. He needs more toilet paper. Yoongi’s heart hurts looking at it. Then he scoffs that he’s feeling so emotional about toilet paper. It’s nothing new, Namjoon has spent years with no soulmate to suffer from his reminders. Growing up he was constantly drawing on himself, even with his parents reprimanding him to get over the habit so that he doesn’t bother his soulmate in the future. Yoongi has never minded. Before he can talk himself out of it, he’s writing back.

I’ve got a coupon for the nice stuff you can use.

For a minute or so, nothing happens. Then, slowly, Namjoon’s writing disappears. Yoongi tries not to feel to hurt, excusing himself to the washroom to clean off his own note.

×

“He’s just hurt.”

When Yoongi gets home from work on Friday, Hoseok is waiting outside his door. He should have expected it, really. It was only a matter of time until he got a visit from the other half.

“I know he’s hurt. He has every right.”

“He’s been in the same position as you, pining into eternity. Only he’s been doing his best to have you. Then he finds out that the distance between you both was self-fabricated, that you’ve been pushing him away all this time.”

“I know Hoseok.”

“He still cares.”

“Why would he?”

“He’s really messed up about it. He didn’t tell anyone at first. He called me on Wednesday, that’s the only reason I knew anything had happened at all.”

Really? Not only has Yoongi ruined everything, he pushed him over the ledge with a coupon offer.

“You’re like - you’re bittersweet to him. He’s cared about you for years, and that doesn’t just go away. But you’ve done so much to hurt him, he can’t just ignore it.”

“I know. I know all this. I fucked up, okay? You were right. Seokjin hyung was right. Taehyung was right. Doesn’t really help me now, does it?”

“I don’t need attitude when I’m trying to help you, hyung. I just thought you might want to hear my side of things. History repeats itself when people like you are too ignorant to realize what’s happening.”

Yoongi doesn’t have a response.

“When I realized what Tae was doing, I was so, so hurt. He was my friend. I couldn’t understand why he would play me along like that. The difference was that he was upfront, and at least he didn’t ignore me. Maybe he lied to me but at least he was there. Namjoon doesn’t even know why you did this. He’s running through all sorts of terrible reasons.”

“He didn’t give me a chance to explain.” Yoongi can only imagine the ideas Namjoon is coming up with for the way Yoongi has acted.

“I figured as much. Are you gonna do something about this?”

Yoongi lets out a sigh, “what am I supposed to do? He doesn’t want to hear from me. I tried to talk to him on Wednesday and look where it got us.”

Hoseok gives him a rather unimpressed look, one eyebrow cocked in that sassy way he pulls off so well. “Well don’t give up after one chance, he’s been dealing with you for years.”

“Yeah, yeah. I won’t.”

“You need to fix this, hyung.” Hoseok’s words are firm, with none of the usual playful edge. He’s looking Yoongi in the eye, and Yoongi is having a hard time maintaining the gaze. It’s not often that Hoseok handles things this seriously. It’s not often people mess up enough for Hoseok to respond like this. Yoongi gnaws at his lower lip for a moment.

“Yeah.”

×

Yoongi struggles for a while about what to do. Hoseok is right, of course, he can’t just give up. Namjoon has been as close to Yoongi’s side as Yoongi would allow for years with no explanation for the distance. Yoongi knows the problem, even knows the closest thing there is to a solution, but it’s not that easy. At first he thinks that maybe he should just wait it out, let Namjoon come to him.

But what if that just makes things worse? Namjoon has no idea why Yoongi has been lying all this time, if he avoids him he may just be proving that he doesn’t care.

That’s out the window.

He can’t just force Namjoon to listen if he isn’t ready.

Sunday morning, Yoongi is out on a walk to clear his head. He’s usually a homebody, wanting nothing more than the sweet relief of solitude and the comforts of home after a long week of work. But recently home is stifling, and he’ll take any reason to leave. On his walk, Yoongi passes the cafe Namjoon had told him about the last time they spoke. His heart clenches a little, but he finds himself walking over anyways.

It’s pretty busy, which makes sense, if Namjoon’s claims are anything to go by. After a few minutes of waiting he manages to get a small table and orders some pancakes. They are pretty great. Yoongi doesn’t know much about pancakes, but he enjoys eating them and they taste good enough. He wants to tell Namjoon that he tried them.

Yoongi realizes that he can.

Maybe he can’t push Namjoon into talking to him, into hearing him out and understanding, but that doesn’t mean he can’t just - talk to him.

Yoongi is thankful for the habit of packing a pen and small notebook into his utility jacket.

I came to the cafe. The pancakes are good.

It’s simple, and as soon as it’s been written Yoongi panics that it was a bad idea. What if Namjoon thinks he’s brushing off what happened? That he isn’t taking things seriously?

Namjoon doesn’t answer.

×

It’s a little disheartening, at first. Yoongi will write something out to Namjoon, and never get a response.

He decides he probably deserves it, and that helps. It gets to the point where he doesn’t feel bad about the lack of an answer anymore. If he sees something that reminds him of Namjoon, he’ll write a little note about it. If he remembers something from their childhood, he’ll write it down.

Some days his arms have a few scribbled words, sometimes there is hardly any space left bare.

It’s kind of crazy how freeing it feels to not have to shut down his thoughts anymore. No more trying not to think about Namjoon, no more hiding what he feels. He’s written some seriously cheesy lines, but he’s meant every one.

It’s two weeks after Yoongi starts writing to Namjoon that there is a response.

Well, not an actual response.

He’s sitting at his desk, getting ready to write Namjoon a message about how Yoongi wishes he was there to help him figure out what exactly is wrong with this track he’s been losing sleep over. That Namjoon always had such an ear for these sorts of problems. He feels tingling near the base of his spine. At first, he thinks it’s just his body punishing him for always moving in minimal increments, but even after getting up and walking around for a bit the feeling remains.

He has an inkling about what it might be, but doesn’t check until he gets home. Maybe he’s just imagining things, honestly even if what he thinks might be happening is true it would probably take a little longer to notice. But when Yoongi looks over his shoulder into the bathroom mirror, the tattoo seems a little lighter.

×

Yoongi doesn’t stop writing his messages. He hasn’t seen Namjoon since the incident, though he’s seen everyone else around. Yoongi isn’t sure, but he has his suspicions that they've all hung out on at least one occasion without him. He doesn’t feel left out though, he understands. Yoongi may be hurting, but that’s mostly because of how much he knows Namjoon is hurting. He needs the support more. His friends haven’t picked sides, they’re just doing what they need to.

He gets a text a few days after the lower-back thing from Seokjin.

Don’t give up. He reads them.

×

When Yoongi decided to leave little messages, a part of him was scared that he’d run out of things to say. How shitty would that be?

But it doesn’t seem to be the case. Maybe it’s because Yoongi has taken to treating his arms as a diary for a long distance lover rather than pleas to a lifelong friendship hanging by a thread.

It's nearly a month later when he feels the tingling on his back again, and that night he can definitely see the difference in the colour of the tattoo. He does some research on tattoo removal, and it kind of freaks him out.

Hope your back is feeling okay. Do you have any ice packs there?

He usually doesn’t write questions, and thinks maybe he should have phrased things differently.

Why are you doing this?

Yoongi’s heart stutters as the words appear just below his question.

Do you want me to stop?

Yoongi prepares himself for the likely answer.

I just don’t understand. Why?

Yoongi’s biting on his lip, and thinking of the best way to phrase things.

You deserve to hear it in person. I’ll bring some ice. Do you need anything else?

Namjoon doesn’t reply.

×

Yoongi gets to Namjoon’s as fast as he can, with a frozen ice pack and tea towel sticking uncomfortably out the pocket of his jacket. He knocks on the door and tries not to be overcome with anxiety. What if Namjoon doesn’t want him here? What if he changed his mind? Before Yoongi can think himself into an ulcer, the door opens.

Namjoon looks - he doesn’t look great. He looks tired, and sad, and like he needs a hug. There are impressive bags under his eyes and his hair is past the point of effortlessly messy. He’s also not wearing a shirt. Yoongi tries not to focus on that part.

“Can you lie down on your stomach, Joon-ah?” Namjoon is looking at his face. He’s been looking at him since he opened the door. It makes sense, but the look of hurt in his eyes is making everything hard.

Namjoon listens though, walking over to the couch and flopping down. Yoongi closes the door behind him and follows over to take a look at the angry red skin of his lower back. It looks so tender that Yoongi is worried the tea towel will be too irritating. He wraps it around the ice pack once anyways, laying it as gently as he can on Namjoon’s back. Namjoon lets out a small whine, and Yoongi can’t be sure if it’s due to the abrupt coldness or the pain, but his heart clenches in response.

Yoongi looks up, and finds Namjoon looking at him. His cheek is smushed against the couch cushion, and he’s picking at a loose thread.

“Is that too much? I didn’t want to put it directly on your skin.”

“S’okay.” Namjoon mumbles, eyes still trained on Yoongi.

“What do you want to know. Ask away.” Yoongi hopes that he can answer.

“Why?”

Yoongi lets out a humourless laugh, “that really is the only question, isn’t it?”

Namjoon only blinks in response.

Yoongi takes in a deep breath, and lets it out in a shaky exhale.

“You didn’t want me. You couldn’t want me. Joonie I’m so sorry.” Yoongi pauses to take another breath, his composure quickly slipping away. “I was young and stupid, and I thought - I thought wrong, but you couldn’t. How could you? Then you were my soulmate and I - I couldn’t be your friend. I can’t be your friend.” Yoongi is crying by this point, but Namjoon’s face is neutral.

“...what?”

Yoongi tries to laugh, but it comes out as a sob.

“Hyung, it’s okay. Just… one thing at a time, maybe?” Namjoon has lifted his cheek up off the cushion and looks concerned. “You said I didn’t want you?”

Yoongi nods, and starts again, “You said something that made me think you didn’t want me. Shit, Joon. I’ve loved you for years. But when you said that I realized you didn’t feel the same way.”

“But I’m your soulmate.”

“I thought you’d only want me platonically. I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t be that.”

Namjoon gets up onto his elbows and throws Yoongi an exasperated look. “You’re an idiot, hyung.”

“I know.” Yoongi sniffles.

“Over the entire decade that you were pining over me, you never once thought of just asking me about whatever it was you thought I said?”

“I know now.” Yoongi says, trying not to pout.

“Just to be clear, you’ve been miserable all these years? That’s why you’ve been such a jerk?”

“Yeah.” He’s not looking Namjoon in the eye, and he’s still sniffling a little. At least he hasn’t gotten those embarrassing crying hiccups.

“Good.”

That gets Yoongi’s attention. When he looks up, Namjoon is smirking. Yoongi is a little offended, but Namjoon is smirking. It feels like there have been rocks sitting in the pit of his stomach since he was sixteen, weighing him down with sadness and guilt. But Namjoon is smirking, and his stomach feels okay, and maybe they’re gonna be okay too.

×

Things aren’t necessarily resolved. Yoongi sticks around for a while after their talk. He makes sure Namjoon’s back is doing okay, he makes them some tea, and they just enjoy one another’s company. Some of the tension is still there. Ten year of deceit is a lot to get over, but Namjoon is talking to him, and he smirked, and Yoongi is happy.

It’s pretty late when he leaves, but he can’t keep the grin off his face. When he gets home, he writes a note to Namjoon

Made it home safe.

He waits to see if Namjoon will reply, and almost giggles when he sees words start to form just below his message. God, he feels like a teenage again.

You could’ve just texted me.

Namjoon has a point. But he also has to know by now how much of a ridiculous sap Yoongi is, he’s been reading poetic handwritten messages for weeks now.

Yoongi just draws a smiley face.

×

They are all meeting up together for the first time since the tattoo, and Yoongi is actually really excited.

Things with Namjoon have been… steady.

He’s not exactly sure if he’s been forgiven, but that’s fair. And they’ve been talking so he thinks things are looking pretty good.

He catches himself smiling at nothing sometimes. It’s not a bad way to live.

The closer he gets to Seokjin and Jimin’s place, the more anxiety churns low in his gut. What if it’s awkward? What if Namjoon changes his mind once he sees Yoongi and tells him to back off?

It's a possibility, sure. But so is a meteor falling and ending them all before he has a chance to worry about it. Ruminating on possibilities is only going to keep him from actually letting things happen.

After a deep breath, and shaking some of the nervous energy out of his limbs, Yoongi knocks on the door.

×

The dinner goes well. Everyone starts out with rather tense smiles, wary of the potential for disaster. But Namjoon and Yoongi are civil, and when they start joking with one another everyone seems to release a collective sigh and stop tiptoeing.

At one point, when they have all migrated to the living room, Seokjin starts one of his stories.

His stories aren't actually that bad, and Yoongi loves him to pieces. It's just that sometimes he can be a little dramatic. Like when he's recounting a story of how he was fatally wronged at work this week, and how nothing will ever be the same. Yoongi makes eye contact with Namjoon, and he shakes his head a little. Yoongi rolls his eyes in response.

Then he spots a pen on the coffee table next to him and gets an idea.

buckle up, this one's gonna take a while.

He's not subtle as he writes the message on his wrist, but he's counting on the fact that no one is looking his direction, and that Seokjin is far too engaged in his monologue to care.

Namjoon snorts, which kind of garners some attention as judging by the look on Seokjin's face . This must not be a funny part.

"Would you like to say that to my face, Yoongi?"

Oh no, Yoongi's done it now. Seokjin looks put out at having his spotlight stolen.

"I don't know what you mean hyung." Yoongi has spent years lying, he can handle this.

"I've been sending Jimin cheeky puns for years, I know what the wrist look means."

"Sorry hyung, we're just getting used to this." Namjoon is biting his lip and - are those puppy dog eyes? Shit. He's good. "There's a lot to catch up on. We're listening now, I promise."

Seokjin gives a little huff, but continues his story. Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin are staring at Namjoon with wide eyed wonder. Yoongi really, really loves him.

Later, Taehyung catches him on his way to the bathroom. "You did good, hyung."

He's starting to feel - not smug, but good. Like maybe things are gonna be better than okay.

The feeling only increases when he watches the phrase do you want to come over after? appear while he's washing his hands.

When they leave together Jimin whistles after them. Taehyung elbows him in the gut, and it's so opposite to their usual roles that Yoongi smiles despite himself.

Namjoon's place isn't far, and the weather is quite nice so they decide to walk. They don't talk, but it's companionable rather than awkward. Yoongi doesn't know exactly what's going to happen, but he finds being around Namjoon seems to diminish his nerves.

When they get inside, Yoongi heads straight for the couch. He doesn't think this is a sexual event, and hopes his lounging supports the idea that he just wants to hang out.

Sprawled on the piece of furniture, Yoongi recalls that the last two times he's sat on this couch ended in tears for him. He can only hope this time works out a little better.

Namjoon motions for Yoongi to make room, so he shifts into a sitting position. He turns to ask Namjoon a question as he sits, only to be cut off with a kiss.

It takes a moment for him to realize what's happening, and another to remind himself not to get carried away. But it's hard. Not him, the situation. Well, not yet, anyways. Yoongi decides to stop thinking about that immediately.

Namjoon is pressed against him, and he's kissing with intent. He's biting at Yoongi's lower lip and his hands are on Yoongi's waist. Yoongi is doing his best not to get too into it, not to lose control. It helps that Namjoon seems a little off. It's not like Yoongi is complaining, Namjoon is Namjoon and Yoongi doesn't think he'll ever be upset at the idea of kissing him, but it feels kind of... forced. Once Yoongi pinpoints the problem, he is pushing Namjoon back softly, hands on his shoulders.

"Hey, hey. Slow down. What's wrong?"

Namjoon is breathing a little heavy, and his lips are even fuller than usual, spit slick from kissing. Yoongi ignores the steady burning in his gut and makes himself focus on Namjoon's eyes.

His eyebrows are pursed, and he doesn't say anything.

Yoongi waits, running a hand up and down his upper arm in a way he hopes is soothing.

After a few moments, Namjoon bites his own lip, shakes his head and leans back in to kiss Yoongi again.

Yoongi keeps his distance. He wants to kiss Namjoon, but not like this.

"Stop testing me I've been holding out for years I'm not gonna break." Yoongi doesn't really think about the impact his words might have, at least not until Namjoon breaks down in front of him. Shit.

"Oh shit - no, Joon. No - I'm sorry."

"I hate this." Namjoon says between tears.

Yoongi is panicking now. What does he hate? The kissing? Is Yoongi that bad? Or does he hate Yoongi? Before he can think himself into another ten years of distance, Yoongi asks for clarification.

"Hate what, Joon? You've gotta tell me. Is it something I'm doing? I can stop. Do you want me to leave? I'm sorry I shouldn't have come, I -"

"No," he's shaking his head and sniffling, tears coming down much slower now. "Everything feels wrong. It's not like I know how things are supposed to feel, but I know it's not supposed to feel like this."

Yoongi swallows down the lump in his throat, and puts on a neutral face for Namjoon. "How does it feel, Joonie?"

There must be something off in his voice, because Namjoon looks up at him. His nose is red and his eyes are puffy, eyelashes sticking together. But the brown of his irises is so soft and warm, Yoongi has a hard time looking away. It's probably weird to think someone's eyes look pretty when they cry, right? Yeah, it's definitely weird.

"I've spent so long just wanting to be with you. Just wanting things to be like they were at the very least. But now that I know what happened, it's like... I can't just forget it. I just want us to be okay, but it hurts." He's not looking at Yoongi anymore, and Yoongi feels for him. It's a relief to know that it isn't something new Yoongi has messed up with.

"Is it - can I give you a hug, Joonie? Is that okay?" Namjoon takes a moment to sniffle before nodding, gaze still fixed in his lap. Yoongi worms his way closer to Namjoon, one arm around his ribs, the other stretched over his shoulder to tilt Namjoon's head onto his shoulder. He's a little worried that Namjoon is cramped, laying over him like this. But Namjoon nuzzles his nose in closer to Yoongi's neck and sinks into the hug. His arms move around Yoongi's waist, fingers clinging to the loose material of Yoongi's shirt.

"I don't want to be sad. I'm done with being sad. I thought I'd forgiven you." Yoongi isn't sure what to say, so he rubs Namjoon's back and pets his hair. "I'm not mad. What you did was stupid. But I'm not mad. It's just - as soon as I look at you it's all I can think about."

Yoongi doesn't want to let go of him.

"I understand. I wouldn't forgive me so quickly if I was you. Take all the time you need. You're not under any obligation to get over it. I've done too much to ask for that."

Namjoon tightens his grip around Yoongi's waist. "Stop trying to run away. I'm not - you don't need to do anything. I just want you to understand why I'm - why i'm not okay all the time."

Yoongi pulls himself away from the hug, already missing the warmth of Namjoon pressing in close against him. "Wanna watch something trashy and cuddle?"

×

It's unbearably hot.

It's also four in the morning.

Yoongi wishes he's sleeping instead of this - this clammy, restricted, sleepless purgatory.

Namjoon isn't one to be overly affectionate in public. At first, Yoongi worried that he held back for his sake, that it was an attempt to do what he thought Yoongi wanted.

But when he'd asked - which he's gotten better at doing over the years - Namjoon had just shrugged, "No one needs to see that."

They still hold hands, which is good because nothing can ground him like Namjoon's palm in his, fingers intertwined, thumb softly brushing over his own.

But other than that they keep their distance. Yoongi had figured that maybe Namjoon just showed his love in other ways, that physical affection just wasn't high on his priority list.

It turns out Namjoon is a private cuddler, so much so that sometimes Yoongi thinks he makes up for all the time they aren't touching each other in public.

When they're home alone he gets touchy, and there is always some point of contact.

A hand on Yoongi's leg when they're watching tv. The occasional round of footsy when they are working on their separate music projects. Backhugs anytime Yoongi's doing something and Namjoon isn't. So many backhugs Yoongi can't help but wonder how he has so much free time. It can be a little exasperating, sometimes. When there are things to be done and Namjoon is just there, in the way of things. But it's generally not all that bad, and when Yoongi gets frustrated about it most of the time it's because he's stressed out about something else entirely. Being close to Namjoon is nice. Brushing pinkies while eating is nice. He'll take it.

But that's not the end of it. If Namjoon is affectionate when conscious, the minute sleep is involved he becomes a stage five clinger.

Yoongi still marvels sometimes at how Namjoon manages to do it, to wrap himself around Yoongi like a python, or an especially gangly octopus.

Yoongi used to move around in his sleep, but Namjoon has broken him of that habit with little choice on his own part. If he doesn't lay flat on his back, Namjoon man handles him into that position with sleepy determination.

One leg sprawls across both of Yoongi's, the other wraps itself under and around the leg closest to him. The blanket rarely sticks around past this point, no matter how often Yoongi tells Namjoon that sleeping without one just doesn't feel right. One arm goes across Yoongi's chest, the other goes under Yoongi's arm and neck, forcing him to wrap an arm around Namjoon's shoulder. He rests his head right on Yoongi's chest, face tilted up so he can snore directly into Yoongi's neck.

It's been years, and Yoongi should be used to it. He's known about the snoring forever, and honestly he should've guessed that Namjoon would be a cuddler with all the pillows he used to sleep wrapped around.

But it's hot, Namjoon is loud, and Yoongi can't move.

He wants to be mad. The situation is frustrating, and having something to direct those feelings towards sounds nice. But then he shifts enough to take a look at Namjoon.

His mouth is propped wide open, and Yoongi is pretty sure he can see a pool of saliva slowly making its way out of Namjoon's mouth and heading straight for his chest. His cheek is scrunched almost the same way it had been when Yoongi came over with an ice pack. The same way it scrunched as he sat on the table for the next three removal appointments Yoongi came along to, holding his hand for support. His hair is all over the place, and it's endearing as hell. And somehow, despite the horrific noises coming from the depths of his airway, he looks sweet. Peaceful, even.

Yoongi can't be mad.

Just looking at his smushed sleeping face is enough to make Yoongi's trapped arm twitch by his side, anxious to touch him. Smooth his hair, kiss his forehead, anything. Namjoon feels the movement and tightens his grip around Yoongi's arm, sweaty fingers and metal band warm against his already hot skin.

Yoongi supposes it could be worse. Has been, for sure. After a few more moments of staring fondly at his loud, adorably disheveled husband, Yoongi closes his eyes.

He focuses on thoughts of an air conditioner that can keep up with his personal furnace until he falls back asleep.

More than okay is turning out to be pretty great.