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It was a bad idea, dyeing his hair pink.
The hairstylists he had talked to had been against it, saying that it wouldn’t fit his skin tone. It would make you look older and tired, they said. Although Namjoon loved Jiyoon’s work, the stylist who usually does his hair, he still went out and sought a second opinion at a different parlor. He was also told the same thing: Your skin is too dark for pastel pink, Mr. Kim; do you want to consider cooler colors? No, he doesn’t want any other color, he doesn’t care if silver or blue would suit him just fine, he wants to dye it pink and if they won’t do it, he would go to another salon. Those were his thoughts, but he’s Kim Namjoon, a.k.a. Bangtan Sonyeondan’s Rap Monster, and so he just politely smiled and said he will think about it. He went to a less well-known salon where one of the younger stylists had been too awed and too honored to have him in their humble abode that she thought he would look good in anything.
Needless to say, the color came out pretty well, and although Jiyoon-noona was furious of his betrayal, she had forgiven him because the pink turned out surprisingly flattering on him. Their managers gave him one look and before any of them could say anything, Namjoon was quick to his wits and said, “I’m playing a delinquent. Pink is the hair color of delinquents.”
“Hey!” Yoongi protests weakly. Namjoon was thankful that the elder was tired from their MV shoot yesterday and had no great energy to expend arguing with him.
Right now they’re in the studio, and Namjoon just made it in the nick of time for their photoshoot after four hours of bleaching, toning, and dyeing. It was a spur-of-a-moment decision, one that was launched by an offhand comment from his longstanding crush (because there is no way he is in love with him, at least not yet) that he’s a really good dongsaeng. After four years he still hadn’t been able to change his status even a little bit and yes, Namjoon is desperate, especially after that heart attack a few months ago when more and more people searched for the ‘Car Door Guy’ and Namjoon just felt so, so threatened.
So he quickly scans the room for a certain person whose reaction he is most anticipating. Seokjin is staring intensely at him from across the room, phone in hand, dreamy eyes wide and glossy lips… scowling? Their eyes finally met and Seokjin does not. Look. Happy.
Jimin touches his hair gingerly, taking his attention away from Seokjin’s deepening frown. “I never thought you idolized Yoongi-hyung this much. That’s dangerous.”
“Shut up, Park Jimin. He can’t help himself” Yoongi grins at him from the couch, head lolling back on the headrest to continue his interrupted nap time.
“Pinkmon-hyung” Taehyung gazes up at him in wonder as if he’s some kind of a magical fairy. Namjoon frowned at him because the younger didn’t react like that with Yoongi. It seems kind of unfair. He reaches out a finger and pokes Namjoon on the cheek as if to make sure that he’s real.
“Hyung, I used to respect you a lot” Jeongguk says after a moment of silence, giving him a look much like that one time he had when he saw an ant dragging the dead body of a fellow ant he had killed on their kitchen counter. It took a lot of consoling and a scientific proof of the rate of reproduction and lifespan of ants before the kid could bring it upon himself to lay a hand again on the little insects that infest their dorm. That’s it. Namjoon is really going to hide that jasmine-scented perfume he really liked. He had read in a book in Behavioral Psychology that negative punishment, that is, taking something a person finds pleasurable, is a more effective way of decreasing unwanted behavior.
Thank God for psychologists, or Namjoon would have never known how to handle his three kids.
Before he could utter a single retort, however, he sees from his peripheral vision a pair of eyes looking at him murderously in the clothes rack.
“If you were going to change your hair, you should have told us” Seohyeon, one of their team’s stylists is frowning at him. “Now we have to find you clothes that don’t clash with both your hair color and the set. You may be playing a delinquent but the location is going to be in the fields and the forest, Namjoon. Blue would have done pretty well.”
“Sorry, noona. I just wanted a change” Namjoon sobers up, looking down at the ground sheepishly. Judging by the way Seokjin is looking at him, clearly nothing had changed. Except for Jeongguk not respecting him now.
“No time for despair, Namjoonie” Manager Sejin taps him on the shoulder. “Just follow Seohyeon and go look for suitable clothes.”
“But doesn’t it look good on Namjoonie, Jin-hyung?” Hoseok screams from the other side of the room, running towards the crowd from God knows where. “Doesn’t it, doesn’t it?”
“Well… yeah,” Seokjin was forced to answer. “You pulled it off, Namjoon.”
One day he’s going to kill Jung Hoseok. He’s only sparing his life for no reason other than he’s their best dancer. Once Jimin and Jeongguk catch up to him, it’d be the end of Jung Hoseok if Namjoon can help it.
Hoseok snickers from behind his hand and gave him a knowing look. I promise I won’t tell anybody; you can trust me, Namjoonie, so the little bastard had said. Yes, he’s keeping his mouth shut, but he can still wiggle his eyebrows and smirk lewdly and Namjoon just wants to smack the smugness out of him.
Namjoon looks at Seokjin again and the elder is still gaping at him with the same wide eyes but also… the same unimpressed scowl.
What the fuck is he so angry about?
“You’re lucky I’m good at my job” Seohyeon says before dragging him away.
Namjoon groans. He just wasted four hours of his life and an eternity of happiness.
.
.
.
Hoseok would not stop teasing him, though. He dragged the now pink-haired boy to the studio under the pretense of showing him something.
“After that disastrous pink shirt affair, you’re going with pink hair?”
“You know I can’t cook.”
“Or clean. Or do the dishes. Or hold a Super Mario action figure without breaking it.”
“Thank you for spelling it out, asshole”
Namjoon is close to crying and Hoseok laughs, enveloping him in a big hug. “But you’re nice. You’re decent. I would want to raise children with you.”
“I’m decent? That’s the only good thing you can say—”
“You’re handsome, you’re tall, you can spit diss lines out of nowhere, and you can speak English.”
“That’s… that’s all I am… Hobi, I suck.”
“Coulda told you that” Hoseok chuckles against his ear and Namjoon pushed him off.
The younger boy had his eyebrows knitted together in hopelessness. “You’re supposed to be supportive!”
“And you’re melodramatic. Jin-hyung likes your hair just fine.”
“He wouldn’t even look at me. He looks so offended with my hair, like I murdered the color pink once and for all, Hoseok—.”
Hoseok ruffles his hair and laughs good-naturedly again, as if he knows something he’s not telling. “You’ll be fine, Joonie.”
“How can I be fine? With Yoongi-hyung he… he…” he gestures with his hands because despair is eating at his brain right now.
“… was super touchy with him Yoongi-hyung had to hide sometimes and make sure they were never left alone together?” Hoseok continues for him.
“That’s because Yoongi-hyung doesn’t know what’s good for him.”
As if on cue, the door bolts open and Yoongi comes in with a notebook tucked under his arm, a pen on one hand and a piece of loaf bread on the other. The two younger boys jolt in surprise, expressions akin to a kid having been caught stealing from a cookie jar. Yoongi blinks at them, but he continues chewing on the bread. “Enjoying yourselves?”
“Hyung, go away” Hoseok shoos him with a hand. “Joonie and I need some quality time here. And you’re not supposed to be working.”
“Then what are the two of you doing here?”
“Quality time” Hoseok replies mysteriously with a wide grin and Namjoon flicks him on the nose.
Yoongi looks at the both of them, his face finally shifting from a passive stare to something that is akin to disgust and surprise. “I thought you’re into Jin-hyung” he points at Namjoon.
Hoseok laughs. Of course he laughs.
“Way out of your league by the way Joonie.” Yoongi plops down on the sofa. “But he has a soft heart. Maybe he’ll pity you. If you beg enough.”
“Oh God” Namjoon covers his face with both hands as Hoseok continues laughing and patting him on the back in consolation. Bastard won’t even defend him. What kind of friend. “Why do you even know? Do I say it in my sleep or something? Because I do dream about him occasionally but is that scientifically possible? Or did you go through my stuff? Did Taehyung go through my stuff and show you my lyric notebook? Oh no, it was my phone, wasn’t it? He went through my phone, that boy I’m gonna kill him.”
“Calm down, Joonie, you’re panicking. Calm down. Nobody went through your stuff, okay?” Hoseok is at least less evil than Yoongi, still attempting to help him but oftentimes failing miserably because apparently Namjoon’s crush is too hilarious not to make fun of.
“You dream about him?” Yoongi is valiantly trying not to giggle. “You sound so much like a little girl I bet it’s about getting married to him. Am I right?” Hoseok cackles in response. Yoongi starts singing the tune to ‘Here comes the Bride’ with that scratchy voice at the top of his lungs. Namjoon glares at him but can’t do anything because apparently he’s a good dongsaeng.
As expected, Hoseok joins in. He stands up and begins flapping his hands like wings floating on soft air. Or like a duck. Namjoon thinks he looks like a drowning duck right now. He continues Yoongi’s song, and Namjoon was about to retort that they both sound like a chainsaw cutting up a tree with a Romeo heart Juliet carving, murderers of true love, but then Hoseok says, “But hyung, I’m pretty he’s having wet dreams instead.”
And they both begin laughing loudly, falling into each other. Namjoon wonders how anybody would think that these two are older than him.
Yoongi hides a snorting snicker behind small bony fingers that Namjoon can easily crush with a squeeze but he still won’t shut up. “And what’s on the lyric notebook, eh? Doodles of his name with little hearts around it? Do you have a pet name for him already?”
“Hyung, Joonie wouldn’t do that” Hoseok says, tapping Yoongi on the chest. At least he has the decency to act his role as a friend, even though it’s too late. “He’d be writing desperate lyrics about pounding into Jin-hyung’s ass.” He breaks into a ‘butchered English’ rendition of Namjoon’s duet with Seokjin, “I’m ready but you’re not, girl show me what you got, your body hits the spot— wait, what spot, Namjoonie?”
That’s it. Namjoon stands up and yells, amidst the two older boys’ laughter, “Like the two of you can talk! Hoseok, I didn’t say anything when you took hyung’s hand and ran to the cliff like a little puppy who got a doggy treat. I didn’t tease you when you secretly kept taking photos of him on your phone and using my adorable prince and my watermelon cutie as file names. I didn’t say anything when you pretended to be curious about whose hands are larger just so you could hold hands with him like you’ve always wondered what it would feel like. I didn’t mock you when you—” Namjoon stops, not because he ran out of things to say but because Hoseok and Yoongi are looking at him, eyes wide and jaw slack open, humor wiped from their faces.
“Fuck!” he just shouts in frustration and gets out of the studio as fast as he can.
.
.
.
They were rehearsing on stage, and the atmosphere was tense. Namjoon had tried apologizing to Hoseok many times, but it seems like Hoseok has eyes on the back of his head or something because he just magically moves away when Namjoon takes a step towards his direction. This must have been that ‘sixth sense’ Hoseok has developed that allowed him to distinguish the six of them through their breathing. Apparently, Yoongi had developed a sixth sense for Hoseok, another one in the list of ‘Sobi’ moments that Namjoon had not teased Hoseok about, which assured him that his anger towards the two are justified.
But rehearsals are not going smoothly, and for once in their lives the dorms and the van had been so quiet that it even alarmed their managers. Namjoon would never admit it in any other circumstance, but he kind of missed the bickering. He preferred shouting and yelling to… this.
Seokjin isn’t talking to Namjoon. Hoseok and Yoongi aren’t talking to Namjoon, either. Yoongi isn’t talking to Hoseok and Hoseok isn’t talking to Yoongi. Jeongguk is too scared to talk to Namjoon because he snapped at him once out of frustration and he didn’t mean it, really, but the kid was being too playful, and now Jimin and Taehyung aren’t talking to Namjoon because he hurt Jeongguk (he really snapped at him pretty bad he’s sure he cursed once or twice). Yoongi isn’t talking to Seokjin for some reason unknown to Namjoon, and Hoseok avoids Seokjin just as much as he’s avoiding Namjoon making Seokjin pout and retreat into a corner.
So that’s how they came to this part of their idol life: the danger of disbandment.
“Hyung, you gotta help me out here” Namjoon attacks when Seokjin sits in the corner leaving him little room for escape. As opposed to everybody else in the group, Seokjin is the least likely to bite his head off.
Maybe.
“Can we talk later?” Seokjin says, fishing for his phone in his coat pocket.
The Seokjin who wants to ‘talk later’ is not the Seokjin he knows. Seokjin always, always wants to ‘talk now’. Now, Namjoon, or no breakfast for you tomorrow and his small cry of But I’m so tired, hyung is met with a Well imagine what I feel waking up two hours before you to prepare your breakfast and okay, Namjoon really has nothing to say to that.
“But look at us, hyung, we’re messing up so bad. Nobody’s talking to anybody.”
“Maybe we need a break from each other.”
What? “Hyung, I would be all for that if it’s not affecting our performance.”
“Is that all that matters to you? I get it that you’re the leader and you have responsibilities, but sometimes people need their own space to deal with their own problems.”
Wow. Fine. Just… wow.
His mouth might be big and his vocabulary wide and complex but he cannot draw any word from his brain and his vocal chords have shut down. Because this is Seokjin, and Seokjin does not snap.
So he backs away. “Okay, hyung. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Namjoon says instead, feeling dejected. He doesn’t mean to, but turns his head away because the back of his eyes burn from unshed tears, and he needs to go somewhere quiet to cry.
This is all because he dyed his hair pink.
.
.
.
It takes twenty four hours of quiet before Namjoon decides to go to their managers for help. Tomorrow morning. First, he needs to write out a letter so that his words will be coherent and he will not cry before them when he explains what’s going on because everything is his fault. All they have been able to wheedle from Namjoon is a reassurance that they’ll go back to normal, leave us some space, the boys need some space, please. Now he’s not even sure, anymore.
I’m in love with Seokjin-hyung and I’ll leave Bangtan if you want me to.
There. He finally fucking admits it. Four years of denial all crumbling into one simple sentence.
He has saved enough, anyway. Maybe he’ll just resell his very expensive clothes and go back to school or something. Become an engineer, like his parents had wanted. It’s not a bad profession, and he’ll be so far removed from music that he’ll never really think about BTS anymore. Or the warmth of a certain someone’s hand on his back when he’s distressed. Or the sweetness of a certain someone’s smile after a long day of filming with little sleep. Or the softness of a certain someone’s fingers around his when something exciting is happening.
BTS is disbanding and it’s all because he decided to go out of his league and fall in love with a guy who makes girls wet just by exiting a car. Who is Namjoon kidding? As if being assaulted by questions of what’s your ideal girl and who would you date hadn’t deterred him and his stubborn heart that won’t fucking listen to him.
Shit.
He pulls out a pad of yellow paper from his desk and starts to write what feels like his last will and testament.
Jeongguk now sleeps on Seokjin’s bed and Seokjin sleeps on the couch and Taehyung and Jimin are glaring at Namjoon every chance they get because they caught wind that he had hurt Hoseok, too. Hoseok and Yoongi are still too mad at him so he’s spending his last night on Earth alone, just like he’s always felt.
“I’m so hungry, Namjoonie,” Seokjin suddenly comes to Namjoon and Jeongguk’s room, closing the door behind him and Namjoon’s jaw drops so wide from surprise he feels like it’s dislocated.
“Wh-what?”
“I’m really hungry. I’m craving for something sweet.”
“Oh. Oh. Y-you… I can buy you something if you want?”
Seokjin shakes his head, smiling a little, and it was a really, really small quirk of the corner of his mouth but relief washes over Namjoon like the sea on a high tide. “No, no, like… I threw away my secret stash.”
Secret stash? Isn’t that more of Taehyung’s thing? “Uhmm… congratulations?”
Seokjin rolls his eyes. “It’s an awful thing to do, Namjoon. I’m on sugar withdrawal.”
Sugar withdrawal. Right. That’s a valid medical condition. “I’ll go down the store. The 24/7 one in the corner. Anything specific you want?” Namjoon is already up on his feet and looking for his wallet.
“I want to eat you right now.”
Wha—what? Namjoon, take your mind off the gutter, you idiot. “M-maybe a box of choco pie, then? Lotte chocolates aren’t that sweet so maybe I could—”
“You don’t look like choco pie. You look like cotton candy on a stick.”
Okay. Namjoon refuses to process exactly what that means because false hopes are the fuel of the stake of torment he willingly tied himself to. “I don’t know if they sell cotton candy.” At least he can still utter semi-intelligent answers. “And please don’t call me a stick. That’s kind of insulting after all the workout I’ve bled through, hyung.”
Seokjin scoffs. “This kid. If I decide to pin you against the wall and eat your hair I don’t think you’ll be able to do anything to stop me.”
That’s cause I won’t, he was about to answer, but he bit his tongue and forced a smile. He’s pretty sure that the whole burning on the ‘stake of torment’ analogy he had envisioned earlier on was not just an analogy because his face is so hot he thinks his flesh is melting off his skull. Maybe the fire has spread throughout his whole body because he feels so weak he could hardly walk straight, and his throat produced a very raspy sound that can’t be classified as human. “So, uh… I’ll go look for cotton candy right now.”
“Honestly, you’re so dense sometimes,” the elder chuckles and covers his mouth with a hand, his eyes shining with mirth and Namjoon doesn’t know why he’s so amused but he feels kind of proud of himself for making Seokjin laugh like that. “What I’m trying to say is… I’m sorry for yesterday. I had to, uh, diet for a bit so that I could make another Eat Jin video. You know I gain weight easily and—”
“— and still manage to look lovely. I know. You don’t need to brag.”
They both freeze.
“Well.” It was Seokjin who breaks the silence. Nobody says anything for a while, and Namjoon laughs at himself internally because why the fuck did he just say that out loud, he’s such a fucking loser, he just called a man lovely, what brilliance, what intelligence. After this conversation he’s going to visit the Han River to die somewhere beautiful because if he can’t have the beautiful things in life maybe heaven will allow him one in death.
“Well,” Seokjin repeats himself, putting a temporary end to Namjoon’s internal turmoil. Only to make it worse because suddenly, Namjoon feels a pair of soft lips land on his cheek, a gentle warmth against his cold carcass (yes, he’s officially dead now) as the air around him is filled with the scent of jasmine and musk and cupcakes and butterflies— well butterflies don’t really have a scent but if they had, Seokjin smells like that, too. And Namjoon is an idiot. “Thank you. You’d make a fine husband someday.”
Namjoon doesn’t know how he survived the night.
But when he wakes up the next morning to the smell of kimchi fried rice and a house full of chatter, he feels glad that he had reconsidered visiting the River Han.
For now.
.
.
.
“Hobi, I’m sorry. Please stop being mad at me for a minute,” Namjoon had taken to begging Hoseok because Kim Seokjin kissed him last night, people! And called him a good husband! So he waits until Hoseok goes into his daily routine of drinking a liter of water thirty minutes before breakfast and corners him.
Yes, it was a kiss on the cheek and Seokjin had meant a good husband for somebody else in the future but he had decided to ignore those two facts for at least twenty-four hours, geez let him be happy for a day out of three hundred and sixty five (and one fourth of a day, if we’re being technical).
Nobody’s still talking to him except Seokjin but that’s fine. Hoseok and Yoongi still aren’t talking to each other and one day he’ll gather up the courage to scold Yoongi because what’s so offensive about being liked? He’s lucky somebody likes him with such purity as a child’s. Hoseok never caused him any harm so he shouldn’t be so fucking miffed. Unless he’s homophobic. Namjoon wonders if Seokjin is homophobic, too. Sure, the guy had up and kissed him but it’s not something—
He shakes his head because he promised he’d enjoy twenty-four hours of that memory before listing down all the reasons why it’s platonic.
“Oh thank God,” Hoseok breathes and pulls him in a crushing hug. “It’s so hard pretending to be mad at you.”
“Pretending?” Namjoon isn’t big on skinship but he’s missed Hoseok and his stupid smile and stupid jokes and stupid pranks so he hugs him equally hard.
Jimin sees them as he goes over to the kitchen probably to drink that liter of water, too, because Hoseok told him he’s doing it for good metabolism. “Oh, you’ve made up?”
“Jimin,” Namjoon breathes because he’s missed the sound of his voice aimed at his direction, although he may have been talking to Hoseok. “Jimin, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at Jeongguk—”
“— or call him an irritating brat who needs to grow up or go home? What could he have ever done that would warrant that kind of harshness?”
“I’m sorry, I was just… well, I…” he looks over to Hoseok for help, but he just sat there keeping quiet. He sighs, because Jimin at least, isn’t leaving. “I was pining, and it’s been four years and I was getting desperate, and Jeonggukie was being so loud and messy and I slipped on the floor because of one of his socks and I didn’t see it—.”
“Pining?” Jimin cuts him off, as if he stopped listening to Namjoon after he had heard that word. “For who?”
In this situation, Namjoon couldn’t tell him that it’s none of his business, or it’s going to be a whole lot of problem again, so he just swallows his pride and chokes out “Jin-hyung” like a rock dislodged on his throat.
Jimin stays still for two seconds, maybe three.
And then he laughs.
And when Jimin laughs, his whole body laughs, and he doesn’t stop laughing for a while. Namjoon looks over at Hoseok for help, but Hoseok is grinning at him.
“I’m sorry!” Jimin apologizes, patting him on the shoulder. But he’s laughing, and honestly Namjoon is a little irked at how everyone finds his crush on Seokjin funny. How is his suffering funny? How is looking at a flower and wondering how many petals it has so that when he plucks them off with ‘he loves me, he loves me not’, it won’t end up crushing him? “Hyung, I’m sorry. It’s just… well… Jin-hyung? Really?” If he didn’t look cute laughing, Namjoon would’ve socked him.
“I know, I know,” Namjoon just cries exasperatedly at his hands. “I know I don’t have a chance but stop making fun of me, alright. It hurts.”
“What— what, hyung, no! I’m not making fun of you!” Jimin crushes his body against Namjoon. “I’m not, I swear. I think it’s cute and I think you fell in love with the right person. I’m sorry for laughing and ignoring you for three days.” He ends the hug but smiles up warmly at Namjoon. “Can I tell Jeonggukie and Taetae?”
Namjoon shakes his head. “No, they… they might take it the wrong way.”
“I’m pretty sure they won’t,” Jimin assures him. “But I’ll convince them to forgive you, somehow.”
“Thank you, Jimin-ah.”
“You should have told me earlier.”
“Well I didn’t know how you would… take it.”
“I’d have made you a banner. Namjoonie-hyung, fighting!”
“Then I’m very glad I didn’t tell you earlier,” Namjoon rolls his eyes, but ruffles Jimin’s hair affectionately because he’s missed him, missed them, and he’s really happy that Jimin didn’t hate him like he expected him to.
“I’m so proud of my Jiminie” Hoseok singsongs while pinching the younger’s cheeks.
“Aish, hyung!” Jimin scolds him and squirms out of his grip.
They are alone, now, and Namjoon continues his apology to Hoseok. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I’ll do anything you want for a week if you could just forgive me?”
“Anything?” Hoseok raises an eyebrow and smirks mischievously.
It makes Namjoon regret his decisions. “’Coz you’re a control freak and this is your weakness.”
Hoseok laughs and does not even try to defend himself. “Okay, deal. One week. Ahh, what embarrassing things should I make you do?”
Namjoon ignores him because more important matters are at stake and any minute now the rest of the boys would be up and running. He’s surprised that Seokjin isn’t up yet. “Guess what? Jin-hyung kissed me on the cheek and said I’d make a good husband.”
“He— wow.” This time, Hoseok didn’t laugh. He smiled. And his smile was not mocking or playful in any way. Just surprise melting into sincere joy. “I’m so happy for you, Joonie. See? I told you you’ll be fine. You’re paranoid sometimes. If I knew you had no chance then I would have sat you down and told you but you have a chance, okay? Your efforts are paying off.”
His words should make Namjoon happy, really, but he really doubts their validity. "I'm sorry about Yoongi-hyung, though. I'll tell him I was just getting back at you."
Hoseok shakes his head. "It's alright. I'll use that confession to my advantage. Right now, though, we should planout how you'll confess to Jin-hyung."
"No way."
"I think a pink hot air balloon with an 'I love you, Kim Seokjin' slowly rising up to our veranda is too much."
"You think?"
.
.
.
Sometimes Namjoon is grateful that Seokjin can’t dance. Or that he can’t dance, either. It gives him more time to be with the elder even if the three hours they are together consists of him tripping over his feet and falling down ungraciously. His clumsiness makes Seokjin laugh and he’ll do anything to make Seokjin laugh.
Now, though, things are tense and Seokjin looks angry at him once again.
At least Hoseok goes along with his plans and says he needs to pee, leaving Namjoon alone with Seokjin.
“Hyung, seriously, I thought we’re okay now?” Namjoon goes for the kill because he’s done tiptoeing around the elder.
“You like me.”
“Wh-what?”
Seokjin pads over to the large stand fan to cool himself off, but the anger in his face doesn’t wear off. “You like me. For four years and you never said anything. You’re always so straightforward about the things you like and don’t like yet you never said anything about liking me.”
“Who told you? Who among them told you?”
“Namjoon. We live in one dorm. I wake up the earliest, who do you think woke Hobi and Jimin up, huh? I heard you.”
This is the end. He’s finally reached the end. Namjoon is not prepared for this. He feels every second his world is ending and he’s close to panicking. “Fuck. Okay. Fuck. I’m sorry, alright, hyung? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. If you’re uncomfortable with me now, it’s fine, I understand. I can… I don’t know. Whatever you want, I can… I can do whatever you want me to do just please, trust me, please trust me when I say I won’t do anything about it—”
“— see that’s the problem. Why not?”
“Why— why not? Well obviously because I respect your rights as a human being and I swear, I swear when you’re naked I don’t look. I might have a couple of times but it’s only because—”
“That’s not what I meant! How can you be so smart and be so dumb at the same time?”
“Uhh… I don’t know, hyung, it happens? Anyway, we can’t disband because of me, I promise—”
“Who’s talking about disbanding? I’m so angry right now I could…” Seokjin presses the heels of his palsm over his eyes and exhales loudly. “Why is it so exasperating talking to you? I just asked you why you won’t do anything about your crush on me and you talk about human rights and disbanding.”
“I… I’m sorry, hyung. I’ll do better.” What to do, what to do, what to do? Should he open the window and jump from there and die?
“You’re so hopeless. I don’t kiss before the third date but you’re so hopeless.” He walks over to Namjoon and holds the younger’s face between his hands, effectively shutting down a reply. Namjoon wonders if this is the part where he gets beaten up.
And Seokjin kisses him.
It’s not on the cheek this time. It’s on the lips, and Namjoon really isn’t prepared. The last time he has brushed his teeth was five hours ago and he knows he stinks right now because of all the extra practice and with his makeup erased he’s positive he looks ugly.
But Seokjin’s lips are soft. They’re soft, even without lip balm and when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss so their noses don’t bump Namjoon forgets all his insecurities and lets out a soft sigh.
It’s not an open-mouthed kiss that involves tongue action and fiery passionate touching. It’s a chaste kiss, a simple pressing of lips but one which made Namjoon want to cry of happiness and shock and relief and more shock.
Seokjin eventually parts from him and Namjoon almost whines, but the elder is rewarding him with a soft smile while rubbing his thumbs over Namjoon’s cheekbones affectionately. Namjoon can’t help but smile back. “I should have known actions are better with you. But I’m still gonna say this because you’re an idiot. I like you, too, Kim Namjoon. I would have said something but I figured you like girls—”
“What gave you the idea?”
“The lyrics to your mixtape? Your panty line is finer than—”
“Hyung!” Namjoon cuts him off again. Why is his mixtape screwing his love life? He’s less proud of his songs now than he had been before.
“What? I had to know the lyrics to a song I’ll be participating in, right? And that song sealed the deal for me.”
Namjoon groans. “Hyung, those kinds of lyrics are common in hiphop. I mean, if you listen to female rappers they also rap about the same things. But about boys. It’s just… it’s a trend. And honestly I just wanted to hear you moan.”
Seokjin’s face grows red. He releases Namjoon’s face as if it’s something disgusting. “I thought you cared about my human rights.”
“I do! I’m just saying…!” Why, oh why does Namjoon screw everything up? “I’m just saying that even though I write about things like that in the end you’re the only one that could give me a boner—”
Seokjin steps away from him.
Namjoon is ready to jump over that window any minute now. “No, no, no! I mean, I mean…! I don’t know what I mean anymore!”
Like a savior coming down from heaven, Seokjin laughs. “Coming from any other person I would have been offended. You’re honestly so cute I can’t take offense.”
“Does that mean you forgive me? Because I really won’t try anything until you say it’s okay. I’ve never even masturbated to the thought of you because it just feels so wrong—”
“Stop! Stop, okay, I get it, thank you.”
“But that doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re hot. Because I really find you—”
“Namjoon! If you don’t stop right now I’m going to strangle you!”
Namjoon stops.
Seokjin sighs for the millionth time that hour. “I can’t believe I… I like you. You, of all people.”
“I’m sorry, hyung.”
The elder lets out a small cry. Namjoon didn’t know what for.
One thing is still bugging him, though, and Namjoon has to ask. He has to know. “Is it because my hair is pink now? If I go back to blonde, will you stop liking me?”
Once again, anger rises in Seokjin’s face. “Are you mocking me, Kim Namjoon? Do you think I’m stupid?”
It really was wrong to ask that question. “No, of course not, hyung, I was just… curious?”
Seokjin does not stop sighing. Namjoon wonders if it will affect his health. “Sure, the pink hair made you a hundred times more handsome, but that’s not why I like you. I would tell you my reasons, but you will just twist my words and turn them into something awful. I’m too physically drained right now and you’re sapping all the energy I have left.” The elder bridges the distance between their bodies again, and tilts his head up to give Namjoon a better kiss than before.
He puts a thumb and a forefinger on Namjoon’s chin and uses it to part the younger’s lips. His other hand settles on Namjoon’s waist, pulling him in closer. Seokjin doesn’t stop looking him in the eyes until their lips are together, finally, and he pulls away a little to suck on Namjoon’s bottom lip, causing the younger to struggle for air. It’s beginning to feel so hot, and Seokjin’s fingers slipping to grasp the column of his neck, and squeezing lightly, was too much. Adding fuel to fire, Seokjin licks his lower lip and Namjoon’s hand immediately landed on the singer’s hair for leverage. He returns the favor, taking control of the kiss and nipping into Seokjin’s lips lightly, but always, and immediately, soothing the pain with a sweep of his tongue.
Namjoon breaks their kiss for a second so he could finally, finally, lean in again and slide his tongue into Seokjin’s mouth. He tastes like mint and spice and something so inherently Seokjin, and when their tongues met Namjoon feels himself slipping out of the harsh world into another dimension where the sun is always shining and the rain is always warm.
And then Seokjin moans, and Namjoon’s fantasy world is engulfed in hot flames. In the end, he’s the one who ends their kiss.
Maybe he shouldn’t have, because Seokjin’s swollen lips, his heavy-lidded eyes and reddened cheeks were forces he had no time to protect himself from. There’s no other way to deal with the blooming heat in the pit of his stomach other than to pull Seokjin into a hug and bury his head on the elder’s shoulder, sweat and all, just so that he could stop looking at him.
Seokjin laughs against him, patting him on the shoulder for comfort. “Hang in there, Namjoon-ah.”
“Actions are better than words. You’re right, hyung.”
The elder hums. “But no more kisses until the fourth date.”
Unfair. Kim Seokjin is unfair. But Namjoon likes him too much. Loves him, even, but he won’t tell Seokjin that. Not yet. “Okay. But that would take a long time. With our schedules and all.”
“We have time. We have all the time in the world.”
Perking up, Namjoon tries one last tactic. “I have one more problem, though.
“What is it?”
“I’m not cute and I won’t make a good wife.”
Seokjin pushes him off and starts thwacking him several times on the arm. “Ouch! Hyung, stop! I need my arm to dance!”
“Well you’re an opportunist! See if I ever kiss you again!” He starts walking away.
“Hyung! I’m sorry!”
.
.
.
Yoongi screams from his room.
It was a very loud scream, and everybody immediately comes rushing in because Min Yoongi absolutely does not scream. Nothing scares him, or at least he’s so good in pretending that nothing scares him that even under the element of surprise he absolutely will not scream.
What lay before their eyes is an image that would haunt their innocent minds forever.
“Well,” Hoseok clears his throat after one minute of stunned silence. “That could be us if you stop being so stubborn.”
Four pairs of traumatized eyes are now directed towards Hoseok. “What? It’s true.”
It was Yoongi who spoke. “Fuck off, Hoseok. Not in front of the kids.”
“Kookie just turned eighteen so it’s okay.”
“It’s not okay” Jeongguk speaks up but he is ignored.
Yoongi shoves him on the shoulder. “I’m not ready for a lifetime of noise and assault of hugs and kisses because I’m pretty sure that’s your idea of a relationship.”
“Can you blame me if I can’t resist you? Yoongi-hyung~” Hoseok has his fists drawn together just below his chin, and everybody knows what’s coming next.
“I need five years to get ready, Hobi!” Yoongi yells and escapes somewhere with a door and a lock.
Hoseok, of course, follows him, still screaming. “Okaaaaay! But you’ll be mine in the end, right? Right, hyung? Hyung?”
They hear the banging of a door, proceeded by more banging.
“Is anybody here in love with me because now would be the right time to confess” Jeongguk sighs, shaking his head in disbelief.
“I’m in love with you!” Taehyung shouts almost immediately, causing Jeongguk’s neck to snap.
“Not fair! I’m in love with him first!” Jimin says and pushes Taehyung harshly.
“First come, first served, Jiminie!”
Jeongguk runs. This is exactly the reason why he likes rooming with his Namjoon-hyung. Maybe when Namjoon decides to move in with Seokjin someday, which he desperately prays will happen, he’ll room together with Yoongi and that’ll be a life of eternal bliss because nobody messes with Yoongi. But… but if Hoseok becomes a problem…
Whatever, he has five years to figure out a plan.
“We’re just joking, Jeonggukie!” Jimin screams, and the duo run after him.
They all leave a sleeping Namjoon and Seokjin alone, so deep in sleep that they don’t wake up to the sound of the screaming around them. They look so peaceful, Namjoon with his head on Seokjin’s bicep, turned towards his chest, an arm thrown across the elder’s waist. Seokjin has his lips against Namjoon’s hair, on the top of his head, one hand curled loosely against the nape of his neck, a leg between the younger’s thighs.
And all of these happened because Namjoon dyed his hair pink.
It wasn’t a bad idea, after all.