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The Ultimate Guide to Surviving Half a Dozen of Exs

Chapter Text

You took away my stars at night, my sun at day

Only leaving me with the darkness of a single cold cloud

If there are hellos, then there’s bound to be goodbyes? Never ever

I don’t care about that, I don’t want to stick to that

I’ll turn away, hypnotizing myself

  • Let Me Know

Kim Namjoon, age 23, male, was a normal person with a normal living in the middle of a normal city. Moving from Ilsan to Seoul for his studies, Namjoon had finished his double degree in literature and music, published a few songs and made some sort of a name for himself under the alias ‘Rap Monster’. Well, in middle school he had been performing under the name ‘Runch Randa’ but in university, ‘monster’ sounded way cooler. He was regretting the decision though, having grown out of his rebellious stage, or ‘chuunibyou’.

But no, that changing aliases or making better music was not the main concern of Kim Namjoon. Nor housing - he had secured a little house with three levels near the middle of the city with a bit of help from his parents, and he was paying them back with his earnings, slowly but steadily as his songs sold. No, he was currently facing one of the biggest problems a teenager could have: romantic trouble.

The windchime on the door of the cafe rang, the whistling tune breaking the silence of the empty cafe that he and Jin had decorated and maintained for almost two years. In strode Jin, hair windswept but still handsome as ever, his coat framing his wide shoulders and his jeans hugging his long legs.

But Namjoon’s heart fell. The older was… somewhat off , his expression solemn and the easygoing smile that brightened him in the darkest days had disappeared behind a light frown.

“Gosh, you alright? You look - ”

Jin cut across him, walking over to gently lift a porcelain cup from Namjoon’s hand to set on a nearby table.

“I think… I might have fallen in love with someone else.”

Trust Kim Seokjin to be forthright and blunt. Standing in the middle of the cafe with his brains in a mess, Namjoon stared at Jin, his senses going haywire as he tried to read the older. Gaze, body movement, anything. Anything that would prove the older was lying. Perhaps there was that little shake of his index finger, that unstoppable upward curl of his lips...


“You’re not joking.”


The pang in Namjoon’s heart hurt. Hurt like someone had clawed into his chest and was dragging his heart out, slowly but surely. Like suffocating, muffled senses and muffled heartbeat that came to a near stop in his very core. He stared right into Seokjin’s eyes, trying not to let the welling tears spill out.

“The person you kept talking about?” The noise that came out of Namjoon’s throat was more of a croak, “The one you always meet in the literature course you never enrolled for but kept going to?”

The answer was a simple nod.

Namjoon spun so his back faced Seokjin, and dabbed at his eyes with shaking hands. Fuck , his vision completely blurred and he was shaking like a leaf - pathetic . Can’t even hold up a front for five minutes.

Heavy footsteps, then Namjoon was caught by the shoulder and turned back. Hands, familiar in the touch and with a smell that was so distinctly Jin, warm and homey, rested on his cheeks to wipe away the flow.

“Please - please, don’t cry,” Seokjin pleaded, “Please - I never wanted to hurt you. I’ve never stopped loving you. Will never stop loving you.”

The rational side of Namjoon argued that this happens - the heart wants what the heart wants. He and Jin had been growing apart, talking less. Hell , even shared kisses had somehow disappeared between them at some point, since Jin had started his Masters for acting and Namjoon had taken up the responsibility of overlooking the cafe. The edgy side of Namjoon found the whole scenario ridiculous. He knew Jin had a new best friend at the university, someone rough around the edges but cute, with a furious love for literature and popular culture, sarcasm that could give Deadpool a run for his money, and a serious potty mouth. He never thought Jin would fall in love with someone else though. While sadness churned his heart, anger bubbled in his chest, a searing fury that his Jin had loved someone else.

Fuck, this was no longer his Jin.

“Joonie? Joonie please - ”

Namjoon allowed tears to freely fall as he blinked, finally focusing on Seokjin’s concerned face. He wanted to scream, to yell that Seokjin’s hurt him, tore his heart out of him, but the gentle sweetness of the older’s face, his furrowed brows and the narrowing of his eyes showed that he still cared . Immensely.

And Namjoon couldn’t bring himself to be mean.

“So what happens now?” He whispered.

Seokjin’s frown deepened as he fumbled for a handkerchief from his jeans and fished one out from his back pocket. It was checked with a bit of embroidery on the side - Namjoon recognised it as one of the pairs of handkerchiefs they bought from a trip to Jeju, and his heart was squeezed by an invisible hand. The handkerchief was carefully folded by Seokjin, and as he dabbed Namjoon’s eyes gingerly as if he were treating the porcelain cups they bought out of the country, Namjoon came to realise that he could never, never hate Seokjin.

For all Seokjin’s truthfulness and the care and love he has, no, had for Namjoon, the younger could never really hate Seokjin.

“I hope you’d…” The older broke off, hands cupping Namjoon’s face and searching his eyes. Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t find it, and dejectedly he hung his head. “I guess… you’d want to break up?”

There were a lot of unspoken words in his question, a lot that Namjoon couldn’t make sense of. At least, at this moment, Namjoon felt like this was a sort of end for Joonie and Jin. Though things were not that simple.

“You know, hyung - can I still call you hyung?” A nod of confirmation from Seokjin had Namjoon breathe a tiny sigh of relief - one he tried not to let Seokjin notice, “You still have half of the ownership of this cafe.”

Seokjin’s eyes brightened immediately. Doe eyes glimmering, he cupped Namjoon’s face and searched his eyes for the second time that day. Perhaps it was Namjoon’s determination to put on a strong front, perhaps it was the tear tracks on the younger’s face, or Seokjin just knew that Namjoon still loved him.

“I will never stop loving you,” The older repeated, pecking his own hand that rested on Namjoon’s face, showcasing the very gentlemanliness that had Namjoon falling for him the first time they met, “Never. We can take this slow, pause for a while even, but I’ll still love you.”

Once again, Namjoon felt there was the unspoken implication behind those words, but his brain was on meltdown and he couldn’t care less. He blinked and watched as Seokjin’s tall figure went up the stairs, disappeared around the corner and footsteps led to the third floor where their rooms were. For now, he let his heart shatter quietly into a million pieces as his eyes dried.

Chapter Text

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I'm just a human, human, human

You erode all my corners

And make me into love, love, love

  • Trivia: Love

He let his heart shatter quietly into a million pieces as his eyes dried. It wasn’t that different between Kim Namjoon and Kim Seokjin after the older had admitted his feelings for someone else. Apparently, Kim Seokjin and Kim Namjoon were still in sync. Though that was somehow expected - they had known each other for three years, dated for a little over two-and-a-half years, and lived together since they’ve dated.

Namjoon picked at the laced cloth that decorated their counter, watching as Seokjin gently tapped the little bell on the shelf and one of their regulars came bounding up, wide smile and all that, to collect her coffee with a loud ‘thank you’. Seokjin returned her smile with one of his own, and before he realised it, Namjoon had handed him the wet cloth he needed to wipe his hands with. Like usual.

“Thanks, Joon-ah.”

“No problem, hyung.”

There was nothing usual about this , Namjoon berated himself as he furiously wiped a cup that he’d just washed. They were… separated? On haitus? Broke up? And fuck here they were going on with everything as if nothing had changed. This is all very fucked up .

“Joon-ah, could you see if we have more Arabica?” Jin called as he bustled past into the kitchen, brushing through the sky blue door curtains they purchased from a run-down shop near Namjoon’s parents’ place.

The curtains fluttered, and for a moment, Namjoon was afraid that his eyes would start welling up again. Roughly, he pinched himself on the thigh, wincing and barely swallowing his shout as pain struck him. Shit he accidentally used his full strength again and he’d have to stop wearing shorts for almost a week for the bruise to fade. It hurt like fuck.

“Joon-ah, the beans - ” Seokjin promptly broke off, shocked at the man doubled over behind the light wood counter. He quickly ran over, patting Namjoon down to check for damage and injury. “Where are you hurt? Waist? Legs? Oh my god please don’t tell me there is blood - ”

“It’s not like you’ve never seen me bleed before, hyung,” Namjoon griped. He was more embarrassed than anything as he gingerly lifted his leg out of Seokjin’s grasp, his ears flaming and his eyes desperately avoiding the older’s.

He should have known that the older was unrelenting though.

Tutting, Seokjin grabbed Namjoon by his jeans and tugged, striding along with the younger in tow until they reached a stool that sat on the other end of the counter.


Namjoon, knowing when to give up a fight when he had to, slumped. He propped himself onto the stool and shook his head at Seokjin, who was starting to offer bandaids, bandages and alcohol wipes that he had ‘stowed under the microwave for reasons’.

“It’s okay hyung, I just bumped myself.” The younger insisted, gesturing to his legs that moved without problem. “If it was a cut or something my jeans would’ve ripped.”

Seokjin raised an eyebrow at him, crossing his arms over his chest. Ears flaming more, Namjoon was about to curl up on himself before the older had caught his right leg. The leg he’d pinched, how the hell did Jin - Seokjin - know?

“I know.” The oldest replied as if he’d read Namjoon’s thoughts.

Frozen in place, Namjoon raised his head, staring at a spot on the ceiling unmovingly as Seokjin slowly felt down his leg, checking the bones and his joints. As the older bent down to check his ankles, Namjoon had reflexively kicked out, nearly catching the older on the shins.

“Oh gosh, you alright?” Nearly shouting, Namjoon slid off the stool to crouch by the older, hands reaching out.

The windchime sang, and the curtains and cloths that adorned the cafe fluttered with the gust of wind brought in by the door swinging open.

“Hello, anyone - oh shit did I walk in on some kinky fuckery?!”

Namjoon’s body reacted before Namjoon’s brain did. He sprung from his crouching position, away from Seokjin, like a bristling cat. Wrong move. With a loud bang, he hit his other leg, specifically the tip of his toe that poked out of his sandals, against the stool, bringing the piece of furniture crashing down on him and Seokjin as pain coursed through his leg.

“ - !!”

Pain made Namjoon wordless. A series of colourful swear words were going on repeat in Namjoon’s mind, but all he could register was the pain that spread from his toe to his brain, numbing everything, including his mouth and tongue. His musdles froze and all he knew was the horrible pain that made him want to screech like a harpie.

“Damn, we haven’t seen each other for two ol’ days and you greet me with such a scene? You wound me so bad, Jin-ah.” The gruff voice commented from above, words laced with obvious mirth.

Namjoon wanted to snap back. His mouth opened to thoroughly greet the fucker who dared to make fun of him, maybe greet the fucker’s whole family and even his ancestors, but then Seokjin beat him to it.

“Oh shut up, you know very well what I’d do and what I’d not.” The older rolled his eyes as he righted the stool, helped Namjoon up and brushed both of them off. He kept on speaking conversationally as he did so. “And you’re not exactly making a very good first impression, are you?”

What replied was a low chuckle. “Absolutely zero fucks to give. Oh wait, did you want me to give you one?”

Seokjin laughed in reply, a high-pitched wind shield laugh that he used around people he knew. Well, as co-owner of the cafe and a friend(?) of Seokjin’s, Namjoon could be more agreeing towards the asshole who made him hit his toe.

At least the pain was numbing .

Finally coming to his senses, Namjoon took the opportunity to right his apron and nurse his hurting butt. Wooden floors were a pain - probably should have carpeted the cafe , though Namjoon would have ruined it in minutes, spilling coffee or something else on the floor. In the background, the newcomer exchanged a few verbal jabs with Seokjin over the counter which Namjoon didn’t keep track of. Paying no attention to the two, Namjoon pulled at a stray thread on his apron, and then the whole thing came apart by the seams.


“ - ah? Namjoon?”

Seokjin’s call brought Namjoon back to the conversation. Flushing, he pulled at the dismembered apron, stuffing in into a corner as he faced Seokjin and a man who leant over the counter. Both had their faces turned to him expectantly.

First reaction he had was to apologise for missing the conversation and say ‘Pardon?’. Second reaction was fuck .

Leaning over the counter was a man with dark hair that shone a red-wine colour under the light. Cat-like eyes, button nose and lips naturally curling on the corners that made him seem even more like a disgruntled cat, the man had a leather jacket pulled up to his neck which screamed attitude.

“... Min Yoongi?”

“Hey Namjoon.”

Namjoon schooled his expression to one of indifference, but he could barely control the shaking of his irises. He hoped Seokjin didn’t see it. The man across the counter had also schooled his face to a natural greeting, though by the way he narrowed his eyes and blinked quickly, Namjoon knew the other was as thrown off as he was.

Seokjin looked between them, head turning back and forth. Wheels were turning in his brain, Namjoon simply knew it. Seokjin was more sensitive and observant than most. True enough, before a minute had gone, Seokjin was narrowing his doe-like eyes at the two of them.

“You guys know each other?”

Chapter Text

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I just wanna love ya

It still feels like a dream

  • Outro: Luv In Skool

“You guys know each other?”

The librarian asked, checking out the stack of books with rapid beeps from his machine. Namjoon pushed his glasses which perched on the tip of his nose, then glanced at the boy beside him. The boy returned a gummy smile.

“No.” Namjoon said, and stuck his hand out for the boy to take. “Kim Namjoon, Year 8.”

“Min Yoongi, Year 9. Our tastes seem to overlap a lot, no?”

The voice of the boy was a lot lower and gruffer than Namjoon expected, though it wasn’t that shocking. What was shocking was the pile of books in front of Min, ten in total, and completely the same as the stack Namjoon was checking out. That, and the fact that they were wearing casual clothes but the same sweater that was part of the uniform of their school. They studied at the same school in the area, had the same interests, checked out the exact same books - what a coincidence!

“You mean completely overlap? Fuck yes.” Namjoon laughed, though the curse word earned him a stink-eye from the prim librarian. “I see you like modern music?”

Min shrugged. “Pop, jazz, electric, anything. I like experimenting.”

“Me too!” Namjoon enthusiastically thanked the librarian as he took his stack of checked out books, stowing them nicely in the bag he brought with him. He made a move to say goodbye, but Min, with his dark eyes and upcurled lips, gestured for him to wait. The Year 10 student gave the librarian his library card with a twirl of his boney fingers, then turned to Namjoon, eyes travelling slowly down the younger and back up at the same pace.

To say Namjoon was nervous was almost, almost an understatement.

He let the older’s eyes travel, gulping as they finally made eye contact again. He nearly drooled as a pink tongue poked out of the older’s mouth, wetting his lips so a light sheen of gloss appeared, and felt shivers go down his spine.

“You wanna go for coffee? I mean, it is Saturday and we don’t have school.”

Min Yoongi had a beautiful voice that would make most people swoon. That was the excuse Namjoon gave himself as he agreed to grab a cup with the older at the coffee shop round the corner. They stepped out into the chilly air together, bags swinging over their shoulders and feet half-running towards the warmth of the coffee shop. In no time, they were sat at a table, sighing in relief as they nursed hot drinks in their hands.



Namjoon quirked his head at the older, “I’ve never seen you around in school.”

“I suppose,” Min Yoongi laughed lowly, his expression lighting up, “I spend much of my time in the music room.”

The revelation made Namjoon very excited. Fully knowing that there was a sleek, black grand piano in the room which their music teacher would prevent most from touching, he launched into the opportunity, wanting to know everything about the privileges of being allowed into the room so casually. Min Yoongi was a man of few words. Quiet, straightforward, barely boasting but there was the slightest hint of pride as he talked about playing the grand, about pressing majors and minors onto black and white keys and the beauty of watching the strings thrum as he propped the lid up. He talked about rapping, about spitting fire into lyrics and the great sense of accomplishment as he was rhyming savagely. His eyes gleamed as he talked about the soft thrum every time he played a tune, every time he made a sick beat, and all the combinations of chords one could make and play.

It fascinated Namjoon. Min Yoongi, with his dark demeanor as he sat quietly and the contrast of brightness when he talked about music all fascinated Namjoon. While Namjoon was used to writing lyrics and music, he was more accustomed to beats instead of melody. And Min Yoongi, fingers dancing in the air as he became more and more enthusiastic in the conversation, shone in the late afternoon light.

The older was like some angel of music who Namjoon caught, on a fateful afternoon in the town library.

That was their first encounter.

From then on, Namjoon bumped into Yoongi a lot in school. Somehow the older had convinced the stern music teacher to let Namjoon into the music room, and there the younger sat, watching as hands flitted over piano keys in new tunes. Yoongi did not rap in school, although he’d show Namjoon his notebook once in a while, ink spilling over the pages in his loopy handwriting. Often, Yoongi would teach Namjoon little bits of a song. Children’s songs, melodies that basically everyone knew, it was all very simple. However, as the older enclosed Namjoon with his arms, leading his fingers across the keyboard, Namjoon’s heart hammered uncontrollably in his ribcage.

Days and months passed. By the time Namjoon could play the first three variations of Mozart’s Ah,vous dirai-je,Maman , which was, in other words Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, it was fall again. Leaves turned red outside the windows, fluttering as the autumn winds caressed them.

“I’m gonna learn all twelve variations one day.” Namjoon announced as he finished his second repetition of the first three variations.

Yoongi, sitting beside him on the bench, simply hummed as he tapped his fingers on the score, perched on the rack dangerously with pages spread.

Idly playing a few notes, Namjoon attempted to read the score for the fourth variation. Tough luck, he could barely read the notes and more often than not, he was sprawling over the score and counting, C, D, E, F, G, A

“You’re gonna go through like, four measures at most before dinnertime at this rate.” The older commented, leaning over.

Air directly blew on Namjoon’s helix, warm and moist. The younger suppressed a shudder, hands itching to curl into the overly long sleeves of his sweater. But instead, he stayed put, chin jutting out defiantly as he sideglanced Yoongi with what he hoped was a challenging glare.

It did nothing for the older except amuse him. Chuckling, Yoongi encased Namjoon’s hands with his own, then hand by hand played the next few chords by dancing his fingers over Namjoon’s. He lifted his hand, and by memory, Namjoon pressed his hands on the supposed position of the keys without needing to read the score. One measure, two measures… they went for a whole section, Yoongi leading first then Namjoon playing by memory. Bit by bit, Namjoon felt himself warming. His eyes were forced onto the keys, his ears paying attention to the melody, yet his other senses were all magnified.

He could whiff the scent of Yoongi, a mixture of something that remotely smelled like coffee and what possibly was light cologne. The older’s fingers swept over his, and as he followed, Namjoon felt his heart skip with the lightest brush of skin against skin, his fingers tingling even after Yoongi’s hands had left his. It took all of Namjoon’s will not to look at the older, although he could feel the older’s eyes on him, travelling around his neck and face.

He couldn’t help the flush that spread from his ear tips to his hands.

“Damn, you’re so cute,” Yoongi suddenly rasped.

Before Namjoon knew it, he was pressed against the sleek top of the grand piano, the edge of the piano digging into his back. Although it hurt a lot, all his mind cared to register was the closeness of Yoongi, the way their breaths mingled as the older leant right into Namjoon’s face. Min Yoongi had his brows furrowed, face pinching up in concentration as his hands landed with a loud clang on keys. Which ended in a perfect G-major chord.

It drew a gasp of laughter from Namjoon. Amazing, the genius-ness of Min Yoongi, producer and rapper extraordinaire. Even blindly pressing on keys, he’d managed to make it a perfect chord.

The older was surprised, cat-like eyes widening comically as he lifted his hands to stare at them like he’d grown an extra finger or something. Almost doubling up in laughter, Namjoon was only shut up when the older had resumed leaning over him, face a mere inch from his own. His face went pink in a flash at the closeness, and he could only gape as the older gingerly fitted their hands together.

“May I?”

Lost, it took Namjoon’s brain of IQ148 around three minutes to totally register what the older meant. Then in giddy happiness, he slotted their hands together tightly, squeezing the veiny hands of Yoongi’s as their foreheads bumped together.

Namjoon savoured the moment with a singing heart. Life must have something good in store for him.

Chapter Text

You put up your thorns

But I can see you’re a rose

Who’s making my heart race again

  • Intro: What Am I To You

Life must have something good in store for him, Namjoon thought sarcastically as Seokjin folded his arms over his chest, eyes flitting over Min Yoongi who was leaning over the counter, and Namjoon who was standing rooted with his mouth hanging open like an idiot.

Awkward silence fell over them. Normally, Namjoon would pipe up and say something, anything, embarrass himself even just to get rid of the uncomfortable silence. But this, this alone was awkward enough.

“Okay, I asked a stupid question.” Seokjin commented after a few minutes.

He took off his apron, flung it onto the stool which he righted after Namjoon had knocked it over, and went into the kitchen. He came out quickly though, one of their part time workers tottering nervously after him. The girl, who normally baked inside the kitchen, bit her lip as she took one of the aprons that hung near the counter and threw it over her head in a haste. Then she quickly took place behind the counter, offering her services to a customer who had just bustled in.

Realising what Seokjin wanted, Namjoon attempted to wriggle his way out of the mess by protesting. “Wha - It’s my shift at the counter hyung, I - ”

“Up you go.” Seokjin said firmly, pointing towards the stairs that led to their living space. His expression was gentle but determined. “Living room.”

Knowing that the eldest among the three of them wouldn’t give him any space to argue, Namjoon defeatedly trudged over and went up, avoiding all eye contact with Min Yoongi. As he clambered up the wooden steps, he fully heard the two sets of footsteps behind him, following him until he opened the door to the living quarters he and Seokjin shared.

He flopped onto the sofa, and was quickly nudged by Seokjin to make space. The eldest plopped down next to him, then turned to Yoongi who had sunk himself into the armchair.

“Tea or coffee?”


“We only have latte in this household.”

Yoongi peered at Seokjin blankly, and the use of his eyes alone were enough to convey his questioning their lack of coffee beans in their living space while opening a cafe downstairs.

The eldest among the three of them shrugged, “Namjoon doesn’t do a lot of coffee.”

Honest to god, Namjoon could swear he could drink anything, caramel macchiato to americano to expresso. He opened his mouth to protest, but Yoongi beat him to it by nodding his head like what Seokjin said made a lot of sense.

What the fuck?

“Seokjin did mention his boyfriend had a liking for tea over coffee, jus’ slipped my mind for a moment.”

What Yoongi said made Namjoon turn to Seokjin with an incredulous look. The eldest shrugged, face void of emotion as he swept a packet of latte mix towards Yoongi from their coffee table and Namjoon a teabag. With a flourish, Seokjin sprinkled sugar into his own cup. Only if he did it without a pointed look at Yoongi.

The clogs in his brain whirring, Namjoon finally, finally, got what was happening.

Yoongi was the person Seokjin talked about. Mouth like a sailor, gruff, cat-like demeanor and too lazy to move, it all fit the description of one Min Yoongi. Who he never even realised was in Seoul at the first place.

“Fuck.” Namjoon groaned.

“Fuck indeed.” Yoongi echoed, accepting a kettle of hot water than Seokjin pushed over and making his latte with utmost concentration, as if his life depended on it.

Namjoon could bet all of his savings that Min Yoongi was simply trying to avoid eye contact with everyone in the room. That being himself and Seokjin. The eldest knew it too, as Seokjin huffed and unceremoniously snatched the teabag from Namjoon’s hand and dumped it into Namjoon’s cup. He then snatched the kettle from Yoongi and made Namjoon’s tea while purposefully fixing his gaze on Yoongi.

Wanting to hide his face in his palms, Namjoon barely pressed his hands down, holding them on his knees as he decided to stare at his cup of tea. It was still in Seokjin’s hands, and as the oldest handed it over, Namjoon could feel himself going a teeny bit cross-eyed as he refused to look at anything else.

The cup nearly hit Namjoon’s nose as Seokjin thrusted it suddenly towards him. The youngest fumbled with the saucer, wincing as a bit of the tea spilled and almost burnt his thumb. Shocked, he tore his gaze to Seokjin, whose eyes rolled after Namjoon steadied his cup.

“Seriously, how do your brains make you believe that if you stare at something hard enough, everything in the environment would disappear?”

“It could. Everyone will be gone, I’ll be alone,” Yoongi grudgingly accepted a spoon from Seokjin, who magically fished it out from nowhere, with a nod of thanks, “If I just concentrate enough.”

Studying them, Namjoon could see how Seokjin and Yoongi would fit together. They were like sun and moon personality-wise, but the maturity, the depth of their thoughts and the way they subtly take care of their own were all similar. At the thought of that, something inside him clenched and stung, so bad that his hands started to shake and the clatter of cup against saucer echoed in the room.

Both Seokjin and Yoongi were up immediately, crowding around Namjoon as both abandoned their seats. At once, Namjoon found his tea lifted from his grasp by Seokjin, the oldest taking his left hand, and Yoongi lifting his other hand to check for injuries.

“You two - ”

“Just in case.” Both replied at the same time.

His heart thundered. All he could do was freeze and hold his breath, feeling the closeness of the two of them. His mouth went dry and time seemed to stop at the very moment they leant over him, silently fussing over his hands...

Subsequently, Namjoon came to when he got his hands back. Though his brain almost immediately went haywire at the close proximity of Seokjin and Yoongi. Somehow the three of them were squeezed into the sofa now, sinking into the plush furniture with shoulders brushing against shoulders. Well, more like Namjoon’s shoulders brushing against Seokjin and Yoongi whenever he moved as he was the one sandwiched between them. Two attempts at sipping his tea without moving his shoulders ended in failure, and as the older two continued their silence and didn’t utter a word, Namjoon took it as his cue to do whatever.

So he elbowed them both as he drank his green tea, smiling with satisfaction down at the teabag that floated in the tea. More like out of satisfaction that he’d somehow hit the two, which was a rare occurrence, although they didn’t need to know it.

Sadly, Seokjin knew him too well.

“You did that on purpose.” The eldest pointed an accusing finger at Namjoon.

“You think too much - I only wanted to have my tea!” The youngest retorted with a very fake smile.

Simultaneously they both turned to Yoongi, expecting him to side with one of them. Sipping his latte, Min Yoongi peeked at them over the rim of his cup, and dared to shrug at them. Namjoon watched as Seokjin’s eartips went from pink to red, and before he knew it, the eldest had grabbed both his and Yoongi’s drinks, perching them onto the far side of the coffee table.

Before the two of them could demand the return of their drinks, before Namjoon could savour again the touch of Seokjin on his skin, the eldest had rounded back to them with a piercing gaze. His tone was not accusing, nor did he seem mad. He was more… firmly and determinedly curious to get to the bottom of this.

“Now, would you two mind to explain how did you know each other?”



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Chapter Text

You know that I started

Drinking americanos because of you

When we dated, I wondered

What kind of taste this was

But this cold and bitter aftertaste

Makes sense now

  • Coffee

“Now, would you two mind to explain how did you know each other?”

The question blared from the TV, almost making Namjoon jump out of his skin. He took a quick look at his mom, whose eyes were fixed on the TV screen, and she seemed so immersed in the drama unfolding that she paid no attention even as Namjoon opened the door. Two of the characters were confronting each other, one guy shouting at another. They were obviously fighting over a girl who looked more happy than concerned that she was sandwiched between two growling men ready to beat the shit out of each other.

Seriously, do these dramas have nothing better than to make romance hell for their protagonists?

“Mom - I’m going out?”

“Yeah. Have fun with - who’s that? Yoonki? Yoongi?” His mom waved the television remote in her hand dismissively as she blew her son a kiss, though her eyes never left the TV, “Be safe and don’t get attracted to him! Even though he is so very charming!”

Namjoon fumbled and nearly dropped his keys. His heart raced as his hand clenched onto the jagged edges of one of the keys, and he swallowed with difficulty before he was confident to let words spill out of his mouth.

“What made you think that he’s… gay?”

His mom divided her attention from the drama to fix him with one of her ‘I’m-your-mom-I-know-a-lot-of-stuff’ expressions.

Shit .

Namjoon quickly averted his eyes from hers, hoping his expression was neutral enough as he weakly chuckled in response. Anything to wave the question off. Muttering garbled words, he ran out of his house, tripping and flailing as he fled. He could barely make out his mom’s shout of ‘love you’ from the house as the door swung close. Scenes flashed in front of his eyes, how his mom kept making off-handed comments recently about drama couples which were ‘so beautiful’ and ‘so cute’, all of that. He tried not to read into it, convincing himself that it was just his mom getting infatuated with drama these days.

Still, the feeling of dread settled inside his stomach. He’d always hated letting down his family - his mom in particular, she had showered him in nothing but love since he was a baby. And his mom might know something. Caught onto what was going on between him and the Min Yoongi which his mom mentioned was very ‘charming’.

A bitter taste rose to his throat, and as he sped down the street as fast as his legs would take him, all he could think was that his mom might know something .

His phone pinged as he rounded the convenience store at the end of the street. He spared a glance down, then saw a text from Yoongie-hyung: I’m here. The simple text made his heart soar, and he ran down the street as fast as his legs would take him, throwing all thoughts behind him.

Namjoon charged into the cafe he and Yoongi often visited. Bursting through the doors, he let himself catch his breath and straighten his clothes which were somehow awry from his running, then caught the little wave from the corner.

“Yoongi-hyung!” He called as he strode over, mouth splitting to a grin.

Sure enough, Yoongi sat in the corner, hand still raised at Namjoon. He grinned, fully showing his gums in the most adorable way as Namjoon bounded over with quick steps and took a seat.

“How’s it going?”

“Hyung, we’ve just met yesterday!” The younger fake-whined, taking Yoongi’s hand in his own all the same. He pouted for show first before grinning. “You missed me?”

“You wish.” Was the reply. By now, Namjoon knew the older was nothing but a tsundere, and all his jabbing comments concealed an embarrassed and soft personality inside. True enough, Yoongi ruffled Namjoon’s hair as he denied missing the younger, and the soft touch was all Namjoon needed as confirmation that the older did miss him somehow.

The simple gesture did wonders for Namjoon’s heart. He felt himself warming as he touched Yoongi, warming as he was close to Yoongi, warming even as he thought about Yoongi when he was alone. He felt he and Yoongi were very compatible, as if they’d known each other in some previous past life or something.

They were soulmates .

That thought made Namjoon grin wider still, and when Yoongi commented on his ‘creepy look’, it didn’t dampen Namjoon’s happiness. The mood must have spread to Yoongi, as the older couldn’t help but grin back at Namjoon, occasionally sipping on his drink and offering it to Namjoon too.

What a pair of happy idiots they made.

They kept meeting in school, in town, most oftenly in the cafe where they had their first date. It was always the same, lattes for both of them on normal days and iced americanos on good days. They could talk for hours, making beats as they tapped the table and their thighs, composing music with just pen and paper.

But what a pair of idiots they were too.

Every time they said goodbye on their dates, Namjoon would go through the slow process of guilt eating him up from the inside. He would go home, laugh when his mom told him ‘not to fall for that handsome Yoongi kid’ and brush off any comments of that sort. Gradually he felt the weight of putting up a different face in front of his family and in front of Yoongi. It was that, and the stares they got sometimes in school when they were too close. And Yoongi not always speaking his mind.

Namjoon understood Yoongi - he had that brash demeanor, quiet and brooding. But he also had that cute side, moments when he would make that gummy smile and his eyes would twinkle and crinkle in happiness. That was what Namjoon lived for.

Overall, Namjoon was still very happy - his family wasn’t giving him problems yet , and he and Yoongi, despite hiding their relationship from everyone else including their parents, were having the time of their lives together.

Those happy times lasted until Yoongi made up his mind to take the offer of a scholarship for studying music abroad.

Chapter Text

Did I lose myself?

Or did I gain you?

  • Singularity

Yoongi made up his mind to take the offer of a scholarship abroad, but that wasn’t his fault. Nor was it Namjoon’s.

“I knew you blamed me for leaving.” Yoongi said as he stared into his own cup. “We stopped talking gradually, and then you - ”

Yoongi broke off, then sipped at his cup. Seokjin shifted beside Namjoon or good measure, leaning towards Namjoon slightly so their shoulders touched, but otherwise didn’t comment. Namjoon shook his head, concealing a sigh that rose to his lips.

The teenage Namjoon didn’t know better, sulking and brooded and was basically out of his mind since he knew that Yoongi was preparing to leave the country. Leave him. On the other hand, he was angry - not at Yoongi, but with himself, because his rational brain told him this would be a good chance finish his relationship with Yoongi. A chance to be the son his parents wanted him to be, to turn back

The silence in the room was suffocating. Now an adult, Namjoon wondered if he could straightforwardly speak his mind. Whether the words would come out right. He felt words form in his mouth, dissipating before he could make sense of them, and then struggling to form again.

But he wouldn’t make any sound.

He didn’t have to, though. Yoongi merely nodded, one lone finger coming to poke Namjoon’s cheek - where his dimple would be if he smiled - and put down his cup with finality. Towards Namjoon, his face brightened, and for the first time in years, Namjoon saw that all too familiar gummy grin again.

On the side, Seokjin set down his cup. The older two seemed to converse with their eyes for a bit, then simultaneously turned to Namjoon expectantly. Two pairs of eyes Namjoon could picture in his mind even if he had his eyes closed looking right at him and into him. There was the all too familiar pang in his heart, as if it was squeezed and thrust into the pits of his stomach, and Namjoon clutched onto his cup like it was his very last lifeline.

Yoongi. Seokjin. Yoongi. Seokjin.

It was like a sudden moment of realisation. Of revelation. He, Seokjin and Yoongi were sitting together. In a sofa. And they had something going on between them.

What was happening between them? The mess of relationships, the unsaid things Seokjin had somehow hinted but never really spoke openly about, it was as though everything was happening but not happening all at once.

Seokjin. Yoongi. Seokjin. Yoongi.

Words tumbled out of his mouth as he sunk into the sofa out of mixed feelings, his hands shaking slightly and his vision blurring the older two to a myriad of colours. His heart pounded so hard that his head hurt, but he knew that the heart wanted what it wanted.


“Slow down.” Seokjin held his cup and saucer steady with one hand, laying his other palm on Namjoon’s thigh. “Try not to bite your tongue, yeah?”

Something, some feeling seemed to bleed out of Namjoon as he did that, though familiar shivers had crawled up Namjoon’s spine as he locked eyes with Yoongi, who was staring at them. Yoongi’s gaze was intense, swirling with thoughts Namjoon couldn’t read.

“I - ” Namjoon fumbled for words. For once, he cursed his brain for shutting down, that his body had realised what he wanted and went for it.

Don’t lose eye contact. Not respectful. Makes you more scared - but eye contact makes you nervous too. Don’t act weird. Shit.

Quite sure his eyes were wavering, Namjoon defeatedly decided to ditch eye contact once and for all. He swallowed, shocking himself at how dry his mouth was, and struggled to form a coherent sentence when his heart felt like it was failing him by the way it crazily bopped.

“I mean, Yoongi-hyung is studying nearby? If J-Seokjin hyung wanted,” Catching his slip up, Namjoon barely stopped tears from welling with a sniff that he hoped was not conspicuous, “He could stay?”

The word ‘stay’ wavered. Quaked in the air sadly and breaking off in a weird way. Namjoon hated the way his voice croaked, but the tears, shit , the tears should be held down. First priority.

It took a deep breath for Namjoon to calm, to carefully cover up his haywire emotions and the hysterics that was just barely concealed from the surface. Strangely, the two older ones didn’t comment, nor did they react immediately. There was a moment of quietness, stillness, like they knew Namjoon needed it.

No, no time to think about what this means yet.

Time stilled, there was no movement. Everything froze for what seemed like seconds, minutes. Until air left Namjoon’s lungs, as did part of the tension in his body, then everything came to life again.

“As in, live with us?” Seokjin quirked his head at Namjoon. His expression was neutral, but Namjoon could understand the tug at the corners of those plump lips and the glint in the eldest’s eyes.

Seokjin was happy that Namjoon made the offer. Happy that he offered for Yoongi to live in.

And that happiness was so evident that Namjoon didn’t know what it was directed to. Or why did he feel more elated than crestfallen when Seokjin supported the idea of Yoongi moving in.

But what was Namjoon inviting Yoongi into? Jin and Joonie’s home? Seokjin and Namjoon’s shared flat? Namjoon and Seokjin’s life?

Every thought was a bullet through the brain. It hurt to think, hurt to try to make sense of what was happening. It was a muddle of thoughts and feelings that made no sense, no sense at all, and each bled into the other in a horrible mixture.

Was he really inviting Yoongi back into his life?



Just saying... yes, I like cliffhangers :D How is this piece going on so far? Please kudos and comment (nicely if criticism, thank you)!

Waiting for the year end awards and performances!!! So looking forward to see the performances of our handsome, talented, cute, hot (af) Bangtan <333 Anyone hyped as I am can fangirl with me on my instagram: XOXO, love you all!!

Chapter Text

I’m just as scared as you

When you see me

When you touch me

  • Serendipity

Was he really inviting Yoongi back into his life?

Namjoon questioned himself, silently. He and Jin had been talking about letting other people rent a room in their little three storey building, since an empty room is well, empty, but apart from making half-hearted flyers it hadn’t gone anywhere.

Plus Yoongi wasn’t any ordinary flatmate.

He wouldn’t be .

With that thought, Namjoon’s heart clenched. So hard, like it would fail him anytime now. His brain was foggy, and all that was in his mind was a repeated mantra -

Are you letting Yoongi back in? Are you? Are - you - ?

“You would offer? For me?”

The gruff rasping of Yoongi, so very close, anchored Namjoon immediately. The familiar lilt, the same low voice he murmurs in, brought Namjoon away from the waging war in his head. The youngest almost jumped as Yoongi’s hand brushed over his own, but held still although his fingers were visibly vibrating and heat was creeping up his cheeks despite his efforts to stay calm .

Out of the corner of his eye, Namjoon caught Seokjin moving. And he turned, ready for Seokjin’s urging him to cordially invite Yoongi to live with them...

But the eldest didn’t. Seokjin reached over slowly, like one would to a scared, hissing cat. He squeezed Namjoon’s thigh, an action of comfort he did so often, to silently tell Namjoon it was all up to him. His hand was warm, heat radiating to Namjoon. A simple, simple touch.

One more glance at Yoongi, Namjoon could see himself clearly reflected in Yoongi’s cat-like eyes. Those eyes, those eyes like the darkest night, were starry. Namjoon saw himself, mouth open and brows furrowed.

The very spitting image of a man at war with himself.

They were all still. Seokjin, hand warm and comforting, didn’t move even a finger. Yoongi, as much as he liked to slump or lie over any surface, sat still in close proximity, eyes never wavering from Namjoon.

Both were waiting for his other shoe to fall.

Then Namjoon made up his mind.

“Yes. If you’d like to, of course.”

The gummy smile that immediately rose on Yoongi’s cheeks was more than an affirmation.

Before Namjoon knew it, he was falling sideways, mushed into cushions and Yoongi and arms squeezed the living daylights out of him. Namjoon could hear his own shriek, and as Yoongi was barely letting go, arms finally giving way to Namjoon’s poor waist, air was punched out of them.

Both of them oof-ed and sunk deeper into the sofa, which creaked in annoyance.

Seokjin had thrown himself right over them, shouting something warbled and generally making a lot of noise. There was a lot of squealing that made no sense, a ruckus, which was totally Jin. After that, the oldest quickly rushed away, footsteps thumping on wood in swift pitter-patter.

Namjoon laid there, the wind knocked out of him. His hair was falling into his eyes, his clothes bunching up uncomfortably underneath him, and he barely caught his breath after Seokjin’s muscular arms had clamped on him.

“Hey, can I call you Joon again?”

The question had Namjoon snapping his head up to Yoongi. As he did so, he headbutted Yoongi’s arm and waist, the older immediately hissed and bent over, clutching his side. Of course, Namjoon also felt the impact. His head hurt like hell, there was a weird ringing sound in his ears, and his sight darked out for a moment, maybe more. And then there was some weird noise, as if someone had dragged a bow over the broken strings of a violin.


That was when Namjoon realised it was his own stuttering groan. He tried to lift himself up, failed miserably, then resorted to furiously blinking his eyes. It worked, and as the darkness turned to red, then to blinding light. A hand hovered over him, shielding his poor eyes. It was so close, so close that Namjoon could feel his lashes fluttering against the warmth of the veiny hand, slender and almost too delicate for a man’s hand.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I - ” Namjoon broke off in a gasp, shocked to find that once the hand had stopped shielding his eyes, Yoongi’s face was barely centimeters from his own. He froze on spot, feeling tingles run down his skin and into the very marrow of his bones.

Eyes narrowed to a cheeky grin, Yoongi’s thumb came to poke Namjoon’s cheek, where his dimple would be. Neatly trimmed, his thumb didn’t dig into skin - it was just there, a warm reminder, a soft touch. “Cat got your tongue?”


Lying still on Yoongi’s lap, Namjoon could only watch as the older bent down and pressed his lips lightly onto his own thumb. A kiss? A peck? Whatever it was, it didn’t touch Namjoon. It was more gentle and gracious, so quick too. Yet Namjoon could feel the wetness of Yoongi’s breath on his skin, and as the older shifted away, there was that unmistakable feeling of - desperation?

Like he wanted - no - needed more.

The curtains of the sitting room fluttered lazily as a breeze puffed into the room, the light reflecting intricate shades of pink and purple onto the wallpaper. Namjoon sighed, watching as spots of colour splattered across the room, and he flattened himself on the sofa in a daze.



Woohoo, another update <3333 As usual, please show support by kudos and comments! If anything, feel free to fangirl with me on my instagram: bts.n.blume !! I usually update fanart and random stuff on it :D

Chapter Text

The world is different from yesterday

Just with your joy

  • Serendipity

He flattened himself on the sofa in a daze as footsteps went down the stairs and disappeared with the low whistling tune of the windchimes from the cafe. He lifted himself up, and gingerly touching his cheek, Namjoon could still feel the remaining touch of Seokjin and Yoongi, the texture of skin against skin and -

He flopped back down into the pile of pillows, feeling himself burning up.

In front of him, his cup of morning tea steamed in the cool morning air. The smell of pancakes and syrup wafted out from the open kitchen, and even if he was slumped on the sofa, he could imagine his plate, piled with soft buttery pancakes waiting to be wolfed down. Usually, he’d groan and moan about waking up at ass o’clock (which was anytime before nine in the morning for him), but somehow he’d drowsily washed and brushed himself and dragged his still sluggish body down the stairs to sag into the sofa.

He’d laid there, unmoving as he listened to the clings and clangs of Seokjin and Yoongi putting their cups and dishes into the sink, having finished their breakfast and preparing to head to class.

“Joon-ah, you are taking the counter for today?” Seokjin had called over the sound of running water, “No need to do the dishes - I could do them when we get back.”

“Counter at noon, no problem,” Namjoon muffled his face in the pillow, which smelled like the washing powder they use, “Could do it.”

Yoongi said something, but it was all covered by the open tap. The sound of running water stopped abruptly, and before Namjoon knew it, he was ambushed by wide shoulders and strong hands that lifted him right up the sofa. Seokjin grinned up at him, arms wrapping around Namjoon and hauling him up despite Namjoon being taller than him by a few centimeters.

Toes barely brushing the ground, Namjoon felt the familiar sensation of Seokjin’s lips on him. The eldest pressed a chaste kiss onto Namjoon’s collarbones before he put the younger down onto the sofa. He even blew a kiss and winked at Namjoon as he whisked out of the sitting room and out of sight.

“Ah, Jin-hyung’s always so dramatic…”

Yoongi’s rasp nearly had Namjoon jumping out of his skin. Namjoon automatically turned towards him, and there was Yoongi’s hands reaching towards him. Those hands, cool from running water, gently cupped his face, and then there was a little peck, more on Yoongi’s thumb than Namjoon’s cheek. But it was there. The unmistakable touch of slightly dry lips.

Yoongi grinned at him, gums showing and eyes crinkling. “See you later, Joon-ah.”

Then he ran out of the room too. Footsteps went down the stairs and disappeared with the low whistling tune of the windchimes from the cafe.

Why did it seem so… perfect? Why could they slip into this kind of… pattern? Life? As if it were already a habit?

Namjoon covered his face and hoped that the flaming of his ears would cool down. It wouldn’t, nor would his heart that was almost bursting, so with a sigh, Namjoon raised himself from the sofa and decided to finish off the delicious pancakes laid out.

Might as well eat while waiting for his heart and body to return to normal.

Pancakes, in fact, did bring Namjoon out of the pubescent-crushing-on-some-hot-guy state. One bite into the fluffy food, he’d thrown all thought out of the window and eagerly dug in. The sweetness mixed with a good dose of butter and maple was heavenly, especially in the cool morning breeze. In minutes, Namjoon had gone through the whole pile stacked nicely on his plate, along with his third cup of tea that morning, and he was almost disappointed when he found out all that was left on his plate was tiny crumbs.

With difficulty, he balanced his plate, the cup, saucer and teapot into his hands and went over to the kitchen area. One glance at the sink, there were two sets of cups and plates, pastel pink for Seokjin and minimalist black for Yoongi. He set down his own, which were in his favourite colour purple and apart from colour was exactly the same as the other two sets, and went about his usual ritual of linking his phone to the bluetooth speaker that hung from the overhead shelves before he turned the tap on.

That morning was perfect.

He hummed five songs or so as he did the dishes, left them all on the plate racks prettily, one set next to the other, and even scrubbed the tea stains off the teapot successfully. Then he retired to his room which was one level above, and miraculously didn’t trip on the step that had a slight bump. Until around noontime, he had a sick beat bopping from the speakers in his room, a nice outcome from the simple thrum of bass beats he’d been struggling to develop for some time.

Glancing at the clock, Namjoon threw on a simple white shirt and black slacks, then went down the stairs. Pushing open the door that separated the living space and the cafe, he met the usual bustle of people on lunch break, students mostly, and the heavy scent of coffee and bread.

“Hello Namjoon.”


Namjoon smiled and nodded at the regulars who greeted him from the middle-length queue. He quickened his steps and went towards the counter, taking over from one of their student part-timers, thanking her and taking an apron that hung near the kitchen door. He didn’t even hear what she said as she hung her apron - he was already taking down the next order from one of their regulars.

The middle-aged lady, who worked in the bookstore round the corner and visited their cafe frequently since they’ve opened, smiled openly at Namjoon. “You do know that little lady likes you?”

Namjoon entered her order into the computer until the words registered in his mind. He fought down the urge to laugh. “And you do know about the man who I opened this cafe with?”

She threw back her head in a laugh, and did a funny face in a motherly way in response as she thanked him before moving to the pick up area. The next customer in line was also one of their regulars, a junior who kept coming for their Americanos. He too smiled at Namjoon, and it was obvious that he’d overheard the conversation as he mouthed the words ‘Jin’s really nice’ to Namjoon.

Inadvertently, Namjoon’s fingers let go of the coin rack in the cashier and with a loud clang and shuttering of coins banging against each other, he felt himself heat from the neck to his cheeks. At that moment, Namjoon couldn’t help but imagine - if Yoongi was there in the cafe too. If he had his personal apron, like the aprons that had ‘Seokjin’ and ‘Namjoon’ embroidered on them, and he would hand coffee to customers over the counter with the little pout he often had on his face when he concentrated. And he and Jin and Namjoon would be having fun, chatting over the bustle of customers and the nice smell of food and coffee…

The thought had lifted Namjoon’s spirits even more, although his very rational brain was telling him he would have to wait and see. Namjoon shook his head, and threw those images to the back of his mind. He had stuff to do, such as take a huge load of orders and remember to get a new apron for Seokjin - Jin - to embroider his name onto it again.

R.I.P. for his old apron that came apart at the seams.

The line thinned, little by little, and when Namjoon’s stomach growled, there was a mere two, three people in queue. He took the orders quickly, and decided to grab a bite before his stomach could grumble for the entire cafe to hear.

He was barely by the bakery shelf of the cafe when the windchimes rang. Grabbing a croissant, he held it between his teeth as his hands busied themselves with closing the glass of the warmed shelf, and poked his head over the counter.

There were a group of college students piling in, judging by their looks, clothes and general feel. They had their hands tangled over each others’ shoulders, unminding as they more stumbled than walked as they moved towards the counter. The glass slid shut with a low thud, and Namjoon straightened behind the counter while fighting to swallow the bite of warm croissant in his mouth.

“‘ello, may I take your order?”

There was a ruckus, voices calling out one over another in a mess until someone within the group had shouted ‘shut up’ for around six times before the orders were concluded. Poking in one order after the order, Namjoon repeated everything, just in case, and only with affirmation did he smile up at the dude who ordered for his friends. At the same moment, the person across the counter lifted his cap.

And shit , Namjoon felt his legs almost giving up on him as he stared straight into a very good-looking face with a wide boxy smile.

Chapter Text

I’ll do some research, your existence

is against the rules, a foul

If the standard of beauty is in the ocean,

You’re seriously Sea 1

  • War of Hormone

Namjoon felt his legs almost giving up on him as he stared straight into a very good-looking face with a wide boxy smile. He was stuffing his books into his locker, as he usually did, but somehow the books refused to stay in a stack even if he tried his best to balance them on one hand.

He’d have to blame the humongous poetry anthropology, courtesy of their contemporary poetry professor, for that.

The stack of books slowly tilted. He angled his arm this way and that, keeping his other hand busy in holding the locker door open - the metal was a pain, seriously. It kept swinging close if Namjoon hadn’t left a hand on it, and with one hand on the locker door, it was his remaining hand that had to do everything.

And his hand definitely couldn’t do everything, even with all the practice he’d had.

With horror, Namjoon watched as his books tilted an entirely dangerous angle then slipped completely off his arm. His heart dropped with them, fluttering like the pages of the books. With a difficult deep breath, he was prepared for his toes to be crushed under his pile of literature canonical hardcovers, for the pain that would course through his body, from his toes to his head.

Suddenly, an arm had stretched out of nowhere - more like shot out of nowhere, saved all his books (and his toes) and the face of a stranger grinned up to him.

“Uh - ”

The ‘thank you’ stuck in Namjoon’s throat. Perfect features, chiselled jawline, pretty lips, the saviour was… Namjoon’s brain wracked itself for a good description, but all it could come up with was Greek god that was cheesy and all too typical, a phrase all too normal for those teen chick romance books.

And gosh he hoped that this was not like a scene from those entirely unrealistic sugary teen chick novels. Somewhat.

Greek god laughed, low and rumbling, as he raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow at Namjoon. “Not even a thank you?”

“T- Thank you!” Namjoon almost hit himself as he stammered, but remembered just in time that although Greek god had most of his books, the poetry anthropology was still in his hand and he would suffer a concussion if he’d hit himself with that. “I - uh, great reflexes…?”

And at that, Namjoon wanted to dig a hole through the floor and disappear in it. Not only was his brain shutting down because some cute guy and barged in and saved the day - his toes more specifically, his mouth was obviously giving up on him by spouting nonsense. His brain was definitely giving up on him too - what was the use of a high IQ if your brain shuts down in the most important moments of life?

Greek god didn’t seem to mind though. He grinned happily up at Namjoon as he stacked the books nicely, took the anthropology out of Namjoon’s hands too, and put them all into his locker neatly. As Namjoon’s locker swung close with a clang, Greek god had one hand over the lock, successfully barricading it from Namjoon.

“Thanks. I’m Kim Taehyung, by the way.”

“Um…” It took Namjoon a few moments to realise that the ‘thanks’ was directed towards his comment of ‘great reflexes’. He resisted the urge to scratch his head as he tried to be cool and make an impression other than some fumbling geek in the corridor. “Oh, uh, Namjoon. Kim Namjoon.”

Well that came out more as a massive shout of geeeeeeek than anything else.

Taehyung didn’t seem to be deterred by Namjoon’s awkward social skills though. He smiled even wider, if it was possible, and Namjoon noticed the way his mouth would stretch into a box shape as he grinned.

Cute .

“Thank you.” Taehyung winked at him.

Namjoon’s legs turned to jelly for real, and he instinctively clutched onto the locker for support. Immediately, he realised that he had spoken his thought aloud. His ears tingled and without looking at a mirror, he knew that they were turning bright red.

Taehyung laughed at that. “No need to be shy, people have fallen over their own feet when they met me. Or that’s what I usually hear from my group of noisy friends.”

That got Namjoon to roll his eyes in retaliation, but that somewhat narcissistic comment did save him. Thankfully, the tenseness and shyness had gotten over him. He brushed Taehyung’s hand aside, fighting the blush that was starting, and locked his books in. When he did all that, Taehyung stood there, close to him, and Namjoon could feel eyes taking in his every move.

And whatever deity there was above, help him because he was overly elated by the attention on him and he could feel himself almost floating.

“Erm, you need anything?” With a final click and tug, Namjoon ensured that his books were locked in. Once again, he hoped he was suave with his words, but all that came out was, “You’re staring.”

Honestly, it was funny to see Taehyung flustered. As perfect that face was, the godly beauty had somehow turned to humanely beautiful when a blush grew on it. Namjoon was right about to coddle Taehyung as he stumbled from his very chic pose of leaning against the lockers, and couldn’t help but laugh as Taehyung flailed and knocked his fashionable cap, with rings and graffiti like patterns, off his head.

“And that’s why I say you’re cute.”

“You don’t call a man cute,” Taehyung pouted as he caught his cap before it hit the ground, adjusted it and pressed down his hair which was coloured a natural dark brown. His mouth protruded even more as Namjoon huffed out yet another cackle, “I bet you’re just the same age as I am.”

Namjoon gave him an obvious look over, taking care to pointedly stare at Taehyung’s face and slowly run over the top of his head. Taehyung was shorter than him, and the height alone made Taehyung look younger than Namjoon, if nothing else gave his age out.

Taehyung did notice that obvious line of sight that dissed his height, and could only cross his arms. Namjoon’s hands itched to ruffle Taehyung’s dark brown hair that poked out under his cap.

“I’m born in 93.”

That seemed to be a fact that hit hard. Taehyung’s mouth fell open comically, and his eyes were wide as he took in the information.

“By that I guess we’re not the same age.” Namjoon resisted the urge to smirk.

Immediately, Taehyung had deflated. His shoulders fell, his back hunched, and with his deep tone he mumbled a meek ‘yep’. And with afterthought added a ‘sunbaenim’, really, really weakly. He had a pout too, cheeks inflating as his face crunched in something akin to sadness and discouragement.

The sight was so adorable that Namjoon’s hand automatically came to rest on his cap, giving him a little pat on the head before his hand retreated. Call him shallow, but Taehyung was definitely someone he could fall head over heels with at one glance.

“It’s okay. What say you - take me out for tea and I’ll let you call me hyung?”

At that, Taehyung perked up with that cute boxy smile again.

Needless to say, Namjoon had gotten himself dragged out of campus. Taehyung was nearly running out of the building and into the street, and he was glowing. Soon, Namjoon was seated on one of the plush armchairs of a cute little tea room near campus, a pot of british breakfast steaming on the coffee table in front of him, and a fully grinning Taehyung wagging his eyebrows at him from across it.


“So?” Namjoon blew into his cup, watching with satisfaction as the steam faltered and cleared for a moment.

Taehyung wriggled in his armchair, seemingly wanting to leave it but changing his mind last minute. He did that thing with his eyebrows again, like a little wave from his left eyebrow to his right. “You promised.”

It took Namjoon a bit of time to realise - oh, he was just talking about letting him call Namjoon ‘hyung’.

Such a cutie .

Just to be more of a jerk, Namjoon let Taehyung watch as he sipped his tea slowly, making a show of drinking down small gulps and letting the liquid roll down his throat. He could feel Taehyung’s eyes on him, never leaving, and with that he felt that surge of confidence.

Taehyung’s eyes were on him and him only .

Taking in another sip, Namjoon made sure that his adam’s apple bobbed as he slowly swallowed, and out of the corner of his eye, Namjoon could see Taehyung gulp too, as though he had a sip of his own. The younger’s fingers, which were resting on the arms of his armchair, clenched into fists.

If one would know no better, Taehyung would look like he wanted a drink. He didn’t order anything though, having said he liked sodas and juices more than tea. Too bad, Namjoon was a huge lover of tea.

“You want a drink?” Namjoon offered, smiling his winning dimple smile that he knew had somewhat of an effect on people. Just for show, he sipped again, relishing in the warmth of liquid running down his throat.

Taehyung’s response was just an open-mouthed gape, like he couldn’t believe what he’s seen and heard. Poor boy, his face was flashing redder by the minute and his eyes, although wavering, stuck on Namjoon’s form hungrily.

If egos could fly, Namjoon’s would probably have reached the clouds with that look.

Trying very hard to hide a smirk, Namjoon tapped his cup, relishing in the clear clink it made against his fingertips. “You want a drink, Taehyung-ah?”



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Chapter Text

But we dunno

We dunno

We dunno the future

  • Path

‘You want a drink, Taehyung-ah?’ was one of the most nonchalant sentences Namjoon’s brain could supply him with as he stared at Taehyung’s face. Other sentences his stupid brain offered was ‘You thirsty?’, ‘Probably don’t need coffee - you’re hot enough!’ and ‘How do you brew?’. Those lines sounded suspicious in his brain, since they were said in Seokjin’s voice for a reason.

Well, Namjoon knew perfectly why they were said in Seokjin’s voice - Seokjin had said it himself as they were preparing to open the cafe. He had a lot of lines, jokes, regarding coffee, drinks and cafes in general, god knows how he knew all of those...

Anyway .

“Hi.” Was all Namjoon managed to say.

Something flitted across Taehyung’s face, something Namjoon couldn’t read. The younger spun his cap in his hand, fumbling with it for a bit as his eyes stared straight at Namjoon.

“I’d like a shot of expresso, a cinnamon bun, two mocha lattes and…” He broke off, head cocking to the side in thought, and Namjoon took the opportunity to break eye contact and enter the order. “Ah - that, British breakfast, without milk and sugar? You used to like that, I remember.”

The order had Namjoon’s breath hitching. He could feel himself shudder, and he could barely cover it with a shift from his left foot to his right.

“No, I - ah, moved onto latte. Sort of. And warm Americano.”

Taehyung hummed in response, and Namjoon couldn’t help the shiver that went down his spine again.Damn it, Taehyung would probably have noticed - he’s always got an eye for the little details.

But the younger didn’t comment, if he noticed anything. Namjoon dutifully recited his order again, ignoring the fact that they’d done it already, swiped Taehyung’s card and returned it to him quickly, all without needing to look at the younger. He was ready to take the next order, but as he opened his mouth to welcome another customer, he was met with air.

Ah. Taehyung was the last customer in line… which was all the better.

Thankful for some rest time at last, Namjoon turned to find a stool that he could prop himself onto. He barely raised his foot before a low cough came from beyond the counter, which he immediately recognised as Taehyung’s voice, even if they hadn’t spoken to each other for years .


“I, uh, think someone deserted his or her post.” Taehyung gestured towards where the barista should be, and true enough, there was no one there.

Namjoon had half a mind to abandon post and search for whoever had left the post. However, he was also the owner of the cafe, and the responsibility of an owner was to take care of business first. He brought himself to smile right at Taehyung, though his face was almost rigid when he found Taehyung smiling back at him.

And Namjoon’s heart went a little crazy, like those Korean drums, a little rhythm akin to ‘deonggideok’ in repeat and speeding up as Taehyung gazed into his eyes.

Nope, stop. Stop looking into his eyes.

Immediately, he turned on his heels and went for the bakery corner, taking the roll Taehyung ordered. Then without a second glance, he faced the coffee machine, busying himself with the drinks. Only when the steaming cups were ready did he bring everything over in a tray, and in his haste to be done with it nearly slammed the tray into the glass that contained their bread and buns.

He didn’t though, and the tray made it safely to the top of the counter without spills nor anything falling to the ground.


Large hands took over, lifting the tray off the counter. Everything was fine for a moment, and then all of a sudden, the cups clanged on the tray, vibrating so hard and spilling liquid onto the wooden tray as if an earthquake had hit. The cinnamon bun was jumping on the plate, slowly moving to the edge and almost dipping into the spilled liquid.

The f -

Schooling his expression so he didn’t look too scary, Namjoon hoped that it was a really, really neutral expression he was making, but his eyes were probably dead. He’d forgotten about Taehyung being clumsy. Like, unsteady limbs clumsy.

And he’d better not spill coffee on the wooden floorboards. He (and Jin too) would kill if the floor was stained, and basically all their regulars knew that. They also had mops all around for accidental spilling, and for a moment, Namjoon wondered if he should already find one of those. Just in case.

He tried to stay calm, arms outspread. It was more of a joke though, he couldn’t catch anything if the tray overturned - he’d probably just add to the mess. Still. “Put it back.”

Taehyung perked up. Wrong move. More shaking, and Namjoon could swear that a blob of liquid jumped out of its container and splashed onto the tray in a not-at-all-little puddle.

“Wha - ”

“Just - let me.” Namjoon was so close to wrenching the tray away. His face must have revealed his anxiousness though, since it only took a glance from Taehyung at him, and the younger got the message. Making a face, Taehyung quickly put the tray of food back and successfully avoided dropping everything.

The bread luckily stayed on the plate, without sogging the mixture of coffee and tea, and apart from the brown liquid that slowly spread through the tray like honey on bread, all was fine.

“I - ”

“I’ll take it to your table,” Namjoon cut across him, motioning towards the tray that just experienced a man-made earthquake. “Don’t think you can manage it. And it’s heavy too.”

Visibly, Taehyung breathed a sigh of relief. The corners of his lips upturned, though trembling, and as Namjoon patted him on the shoulder before carefully lifting the tray, the quirk of his lips had fully bloomed into that signature boxy smile of his.

And it was still very cute .

Mentally slapping himself, Namjoon managed to change the tray for the cups and plates, not before wiping them down of course. Then he maneuvered his way through the tables and chairs, carrying the food with the familiarity of a coffee shop owner who has been doing his business for two years. He set down the clean tray with finality, chest swelling with pride as not a drop had spilled.

“Your order.”

The group of boys chorused their thanks loudly, and then dug into the food like they’d been starving and thirsting for ages. The bread was quickly devoured with a bite from everyone minus Taehyung, and as Namjoon bowed his exit, they were already sipping their scalding hot coffee.



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Chapter Text

I wanna hold your hand

And go to the other side of the earth

  • Spring Day

They were already sipping their scalding hot coffee, one cup each for Namjoon and Taehyung as they sat on a bench. Their T-shirts were a little sweat-soaked, but neither minded. They were having too much fun.

Behind their bench, people’s screams and the rolling of machines could be heard. Loud music blared over the microphone, with the occasional pause of some unintelligible announcements.

“Hyung, can we go on that - that ship again?” Taehyung eagerly asked, almost flipping his cup in his exaggerated movements. “I love the whoosh! It was more like whoa, whoosh, whoa - ”

The child-like sense of wonder and the excited twinkle in his eyes was entirely gorgeous. Namjoon could only throw his head back and laugh, agreeing with Taehyung. He’d probably agree with anything Taehyung wanted, if the younger kept showing that innocent and exhilarated smile.

Taking the last gulp of Americano, Namjoon chucked his cup away in a nearby bin, watching with glee as the cup flew straight into the bin when he threw from the distance of a few strides. Silently, he pumped his fist in the air, earning a peal of laughter from Taehyung.

Guess that sense of wonder from Taehyung was infectious.

Taehyung downed his drink too, grimacing as he complained it about it being a bit too hot but dragging Namjoon away eagerly. They went in a beeline for the pirate ship, amidst the carefree whooping of the younger who skipped and laughed like the children visiting the amusement park. Thankfully, it was a weekday when both their schedules were free, and the park had less people than normal, which meant shorter lines and more ease to get onto rides.

They sped through the iron bars secured in case there was a line for the ride. Quickly clambering in the last row of the pirate ship, Namjoon and Taehyung secured themselves immediately. The ride was almost empty, the people riding with them being two couples and three rowdy kids who looked barely in their tens. Feeling a sense of anticipation mixed with fear, Namjoon gulped, hoping that he wouldn’t scream like a maniac.

“Ready, hyung?” Taehyung asked, grinning ear to ear as he nudged the older.

Namjoon spared a glance at him. Taehyung’s grin was infectious, and Namjoon mirrored that grin as he felt the machine’s vibration spread on the pirate ship. They started moving. Swaying higher and higher, increasing in speed as they did so, he took a moment to look around him.

The indoors amusement park was bright, sunlight filtering in through the slightly coloured roof that was near transparent. Neon lights of different rides blinked, all so very colourful, and there was shouts and peals of laughter from people who looked like they were having the time of their lives as they rushed past on roller coasters or drifted past in fake hot air balloons that hung on the ceiling.

Then he turned to Taehyung.

Taehyung, who had his arms thrown in the air, eyes bright as he arched back and laughed. The ride swung up till they were almost a ninety degrees from ground, and then down with a blast of air and the revving sounds of whatever machinery was keeping the pirate ship working. Despite the gust of wind that blew Namjoon’s hair into his eyes and the mess of sounds floating into his ears, Namjoon could only pay attention to Taehyung.

His face, the beautiful and energetic expressions Taehyung was making, his peals of laughter as they whooshed down.

Stop staring. At least not so obviously, idiot.

Berating himself, Namjoon tore his face from Taehyung, opting to glance from the corner of his eyes. He couldn’t take his eyes off him.

Ugh, idiot.

Up again they went, elevated by metal and wood. At the top, Taehyung spun to face Namjoon and that boxy smile. That boxy smile as he threw his arms in the air again had Namjoon unconsciously mirroring him with a similar laugh.

Although they were falling, Namjoon felt his heart soar.

That feeling of elation remained, even after they jumped off the pirate ship. Taehyung pranced his way across the amusement park, grabbing Namjoon and talking about everything and anything that caught his eye.

Cute headbands, pretty candy, little fluffy bears that stood in shop windows and kids that ran around.

Namjoon let him. As Taehyung got excited over things, he felt that he could feel the same awe that Taehyung tried to express. When Taehyung squealed that something was particularly cute, he felt the same want to squeeze and hug. When Taehyung stuttered over his eagerness and flushed, the way he peeked at Namjoon under his bangs, the way he flushed and had to turn his back to Namjoon just to take a breath and reconsider his words.

It was all very adorable.

“You’re cute, you know,” Namjoon tried to pass it off as conversationally, though he could feel his heart pumping like crazy and blood coursing through him rapidly, “And I really like it when you’re enthusiastic about stuff.”

“B- but it’s just, bears? W- wouldn’t it be - ” Taehyung suddenly stopped in mid-step. He whirled around, completely facing Namjoon, and the smile on his face just melted. Disappeared. “Weird?”

“I’ve had loads of people telling me I’m weird, though I don’t give a fuck?” Namjoon calmly replied.


Neon lights reflected on Taehyung’s hair, a beautiful halo of so many colours. It was an artistic reflection of Taehyung, beautiful, colourful, full of energy. And it was heartbreaking to see that light flicker.

“Everyone is weird sometimes.” Namjoon said, letting finality into his voice although he had tried, so hard, to not be imposing on the younger even though he was hyung, and therefore supposed to lead and give all sorts of older-than-thou advice. “Those who let bad words like ‘weird’ or ‘different’ get to them are idiots - everyone is different in the world, and that’s what makes all of us unique.”

Taehyung threw himself into Namjoon’s arms. He nearly bowled them both over as he did surge forwards into Namjoon, making the older back into a pillar of some little house that was probably a part of a ride. Namjoon’s back hurt from the impact, but at the moment, he couldn’t care less.

Arms came to wrap around Namjoon’s middle, and Taehyung burrowed himself in Namjoon’s embrace, nuzzling softly. Through the thin fabric of his T-shirt, Namjoon could feel Taehyung’s warmth, the moisture of his breath, even the beating of a heart that was not his own.

They were so close.

Feeling the younger’s hands interlocking behind him, Namjoon willed himself to unfreeze. Softly, his hands, shaking, wrapped around Taehyung and the younger took that as a cue to tighten his arms and pressed them together.

So close.

They stayed like that. Hugging in the middle of an amusement park, arms wrapped around each other tightly. Amidst the blinking lights and blaring music of songs that made no sense, Namjoon’s heart went haywire, mixing with the thumping of Taehyung’s heart, and his mind went peacefully blank.



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Chapter Text

I'm leaving the country for holidays, and the next update will be around the weekend after Christmas. Please keep supporting this piece, in kudos and comments <3 An early Merry Christmas to everyone, love you all!


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Did you change?

Or did I change?

  • Spring Day

His mind went peacefully blank as he wiped everything down. The counter, the glass of the bread shelf, the microwave, even the stool he perched himself on at less busy times. Namjoon hummed as he wrung the wet cloth, watching water droplets rivulet down his fingers, his palms, into the sink. There was that sense of satisfaction when things were cleaned up and sparkly - as clean and clear as they could be anyway.

And of course, there was the feeling of a gaze burning into his back. Carefully, Namjoon shifted from his left foot to his right and reached for a dry cloth on the side.

The gaze burned brighter, and he could even feel the weight of the gaze on the right side of his face. Namjoon fought the will to bury his head in something, anything, and acted as nonchalantly as he could, quickly turning back to the sink.

Ah, becoming an ostrich would be such a nice thing right now…

The image of an ostrich burying its head, Namjoon’s head, into sand was quickly dismissed from Namjoon’s mind as a shudder ran through his body. Nope, he got nothing for human heads on animal bodies, thank you very much. Mindlessly wiping the area around the sink dry, Namjoon tried to keep his mind blank as his hands itched to work. Cleaning up was not his forte, nor was dealing with kitchen stuff, but Namjoon just felt the need to hide.

A dire need to hide, that was.

“Uh… Namjoon-hyung... Namjoon-ssi?”

The faltering voice, deep and velvety, brought an unspeakable heaviness to Namjoon’s heart. He could feel his shoulders falling, his whole body just tensing up.

“Hyung would be fine, Taehyung.” Namjoon wiped his hands on a clean towel and schooled his expression to neutrality before he went towards the younger. “May I help you?”

“I, uh,” Taehyung fiddled with his cap, eyes downcast. “You… Tea?”

The familiar feeling of exasperation had Namjoon sighing, more out of reflex than anything. He threw the clean towel to the side, trying not to wince at the thud and splash it made as it landed not right next to the sink but into the sink. The water definitely did not splash his jeans. Nope.

Taehyung definitely noticed it though. The younger quirked the corners of his mouth, an obnoxious little snigger escaping from him before he could quell it.

Brat .

“Sit down at the side bar.” Namjoon decided that he was too mature to deal with little brats, and that he would let the rudeness go, just this one time. “What about your little friends?”

Taehyung shrugged. “I told them I was gunna catch up with you. They’ll leave when they finish.”

As if on cue, his friends stood and shouted their thanks. With a few goodbyes to Taehyung, his peers filed out of the cafe, the windchimes twinkling after their wake as the door slowly swung shut.

“Hmm.” Was all Namjoon managed to mutter. “Come on.”

Gesturing to said side bar, which was just a few stools facing an open counter on the far side of the cafe, Namjoon led Taehyung there. They would have a bartender (namely Jin), for alcoholic drinks from happy hours onwards and particularly during festivities. Right at the brink of summer though, they had mostly beers in ice at the bar.

Namjoon peered into the fridge right below the bar table on his side, then reached for a beer and held it out for Taehyung over the counter. “Beer?”

Taehyung stared at the beer with an unreadable expression, but took it anyway. Taking another, Namjoon popped the lid off using a spoon with practiced ease and chugged a mouthful.

God knew how much he needed that during these awkward moments.

“I do remember I was talking about… tea.” Taehyung said, though he popped the lid of the beer bottle easily with a key he fished out of his jacket. “Not in the mood for tea?”

“Definitely felt like I needed a beer,” Namjoon pointedly countered. He raised his bottle, clinked it with Taehyung’s, and drank another mouthful. Liquid slid down his throat, bitter and frothy.

Doing the same, Taehyung threw his head back and drank. For some reason, Namjoon’s stomach churned while looking at the younger. Now that he had a real good look at Taehyung, he could notice the subtle changes. How long has it been - four years perhaps? - and Taehyung was no longer the barely-adult-kid he was in Namjoon’s memories. When Taehyung busied himself with the bottle, Namjoon allowed his eyes to travel down Taehyung’s face, noticing the more prominent curve of his jaw, the deepened features of his bone structure, the way his skin was less tanned but still retaining that healthy glow.

Still every bit the Greek god Namjoon had dubbed him as when they first met.

That though had Namjoon taking yet another swig from his beer. It felt weird, the way he and Taehyung were sitting together, across a wooden counter that was figuratively the separation of inside and outside . And they were in silence too, which was not something that would have happened between them.

Was .

Taehyung coughed, bringing Namjoon back from his straying thoughts. “So, you’re… working here now, hyung?”

“Nah, I own the place. With my - ” Namjoon broke off, trying to find his words. “He’s, sort of… it’s…”

Complicated was left unsaid - as Namjoon’s mind flitted with images of Jin and Yoongi, guess they were somehow on first name basis again in his brain - yet somehow Taehyung seemed to get the message and nodded in understanding. They sat in silence again, sipping their alcohol ( seriously, was 5% alcoholic content even alcohol? ) on opposite sides of the bar. It was so very… difficult. Namjoon felt uneasy as his hands moved of their own accord, bring the bottle to his lips so that his mouth would automatically open and swallow.

“This is a perplexing situation - ” Taehyung muttered as his bottle was put down with a soft thud on the counter. Liquid swished inside the bottle, still three quarters full, and for a moment Namjoon was mesmerised by the white foam that swayed within the glass. “I didn’t seem to know how to shut up around you before.”

“And I didn’t know you understood the word ‘perplexing’.” Namjoon retorted before his brain could filter his mouth. He heard himself in immense regret, and immediately crouched down to put his hands in his face with a groan. “Ugh, just - not - ”

Taehyung, however, was not even a little offended. He simply laughed, a booming bass that vibrated into Namjoon’s core, and hit the older across his shoulder. “Swag, hyung. Swag, not diss.”

“Sorry.” Namjoon couldn’t help but chuckle. As he did so, whatever was holding him back seemed to melt to nothing, relieving him of some unspeakable weight. A long-held breathe whooshed out of him, and everything felt… alright. Better. “So, what are you up to now?”

“Ah, I switched universities.” Taehyung scratched the back of his neck, pushing his cap over his dark hair. “Decided to come over anyways. Didn’t waste time, luckily. Got into third year here with no problems.”

Internally, Namjoon debated whether this was a safe topic to trod on. He wouldn’t want to ask too much, and the very topic of ‘success and failure’ was dangerous territory. That, and one of the reasons they didn’t keep in contact was another dangerous place to tread on.

Taehyung though, didn’t care.

“You remember after summer, I told you I would go back? Perhaps do something about  farming, or something artsy?” The younger picked his beer back up, chugged up what seemed to be a huge mouthful from the way his cheeks bulged as he drank, and cradled the bottle, “Decided farming was… mediocre to say at least. Couldn’t do much with it, felt bored and almost dying. Studied hard, applied for transfer, and now I’m back to where I tried to start at the very first place.”

“At least you didn’t have to re-do the first two years of your university?” Namjoon offered.

Taehyung winced. “Try studying nutrition and then changing to music. Sucks so bad that I constantly wanted to throw myself off the nearest building - ”

Namjoon moved his hand forward, and Taehyung clinked their beers together. Chug, slosh. The thump of their bottles against wood in synchronisation.

Chapter Text

I guess we changed

I guess that’s how everything is

  • Spring Day

Chug, slosh. The thump of their bottles against wood in synchronisation.

“So you’re ready to graduate?”

Picking up the conversation, Namjoon allowed his tongue to travel across his lips clear of the froth that didn’t go into his mouth. He was not a clean drinker when it came to anything that frothed, that he was aware of. The area around his mouth was sticky, and he really needed a tissue, perhaps after his bottle was finished. His fingers itched for tissue, or just a clean handkerchief, nonetheless.

“Ready, so ready,” Taehyung groaned. He spread across the counter, arms splaying to the side until he was like an oversized eagle with a huge wing span. “I’m going to hand in my thesis without a third look-over, I swear.”

Puffing out a snort, Namjoon flicked him on the arm. “Sick of it?”

“Very sick of it.” Taehyung affirmed eagerly.

“That eager to get out of college huh. Ever thought about the troubles of housing? Food? Jobs?”

Taehyung paled immediately, made a move for his bottle, and Namjoon got the hint to spare him of any more adult troubles. He made a mental note to shut up about this kind of stuff, but to his surprise, Taehyung pursued the conversation.

“Moving out after graduation, finding a place.” The younger gave a weak smile, his lips pressed into a thin line, “Saved a bit from freelances, and after graduation, I imagine I’ll… somehow make a living. Photos and performances, you know.”


So Taehyung kept his hobby of photography. Namjoon’s mind wandered to Taehyung’s childish wonder behind lens, the way his mouth went to that boxy smile when his fingers pressed and the shutter clicked. His shouts of excitement when his shots came out beautifully -

He shook himself out of those thoughts.

“You gunna work on this cafe, hyung?” Questioning, the younger waved around, his satori accent seeping out, “I remember… you wanted to do music?”

“Am still doing.” Chug, slosh. “I’m doing both - covers expenses, makes a living.”

“Whoa - ”

The rest of the sentence was cut short by the singing of windchimes. Namjoon had to get up and take the order of an elderly lady who tottered in for a piece of their carrot cake to take away. Carefully wrapping the cake in a paper bag, Namjoon waved the lady away with his usual sentence of ‘Please come back again’ to show customers out of the door before he turned back to the side bar.

“Seems like you settled alright.”

“Making do.” Namjoon commented as offhandedly as he could.

Taehyung’s eyes bore into his. Barely hiding a shudder, Namjoon sat back down, plopping his ass onto the stool with what he hoped was nonchalance. The younger hummed, nodded like he understood something, and then raised his bottle towards Namjoon.

Guess that meant cheers…

Bottles clinked with a clear sound. Downing the rest of his beer, Namjoon gingerly put the glass into the crate to separate rubbish, just in case he broke yet another bottle. When he spun back to Taehyung, the younger was handing him his bottle too, having downed it. Namjoon blinked, but the younger didn’t look up. Taehyung had his phone out, laid right on the table and the light of the screen blinked as lean fingers smoothed across the surface.

Namjoon stashed the bottle away, deciding not to talk about respecting hyungs and all that. Afterall, Taehyung was still a customer. “Got somewhere to go to?”

“Mhm. Got a date.”

Ah .

Something, coined feeling but without exactly identifying itself as which feeling, whooshed out of Namjoon’s chest quickly. He couldn’t tell if it were relief or something else, just something was gone within that moment. The older wiped his hands, trying very hard to be polite but couldn’t help peeping as inconspicuously as he could -

There on Taehyung’s screen, as his phone wallpaper, were two figures making a heart shape with their arms against a background of clear blue skies.

Namjoon couldn’t see the face of that figure. He didn’t need to anyway. He could feel a smile stretching across his face as Taehyung’s head bobbed once, twice, then tore his eyes from his phone to meet Namjoon’s eyes. He caught Namjoon’s gaze on his phone and back to his face, and visibly, Taehyung was flustered.

“Ah, I - uh, this - ”

“Looks sweet,” Namjoon waved his hand in the air, “You guys look nice together.”

Taehyung had an expression on his face, as if he was trying to figure something out. Namjoon could hear the imaginary creaks and whirring as the clogs in the younger’s brain moved. Although he had no idea why Taehyung was thinking hard, his body had already moved on its own accord.

Half bending across the counter, his hand ran through Taehyung’s hair, fluffy and soft as before. He patted him for good measure, his fingers separately revelling in that feeling and warmth that radiated from the younger, before his arm was willing to retract.

“Namjoon-hyung - ”

Taehyung muttered something in his low voice, but at the same time, his phone buzzed loudly across the wooden tabletop and the soft chiming of the door opening swallowed whatever he wanted to say.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that?”

Opening his mouth, Taehyung closed it again, shaking his head. “Nothing, hyung.”

“Well, you need anything? Food? Drinks maybe?” Namjoon offered, “It’s on the house.”

The younger just shook his head, fixing Namjoon with a deep gaze that could have meant anything. Baffled by all the emotions swirling in Taehyung’s eyes, Namjoon wanted to ask whatever the younger was thinking, or why he was smiling that boxy smile while frowning. However, quick dings from the bell at the counter rang across the cafe, and even though there was this feeling settling at the pit of his stomach, Namjoon stood up.

“I’ll get you a bite.” He said, whipping towards the counter. He made his way towards the bakery shelf, yet stopped in his tracks.

Over the heated bakery shelf, Jin stood there, smiling at him gently.

“Joon, I’m back.”

“Jin-hyung.” Namjoon greeted enthusiastically, feeling the smile of his face almost hurting. “You need to put your stuff down upstairs first?”

“Nah,” Jin laughed, as squeaky as usual but just as adorable, “Come on, let me in.”

Namjoon flipped the lock behind the little door that separated the outside of the counter from the inside. Jin strode through casually, and as he reached for his apron that hung near the doors to the kitchen, he pecked Namjoon by the corner of his mouth.

“Any welcome homes for me, Joon?”

Wrapping his hands around Jin, Namjoon was leaning forward into the older’s warm embrace when he remembered that he had audience. Which said audience had left the side bar and was half sprawled across the bakery shelf with a grin.

“Uh, Jin-hyung, this is - ”

“Taehyung, old acquaintance of Namjoon-hyung.” Taehyung said, giving a little wave.

Jin returned a friendly smile, went forward to shake Taehyung’s hand while having his other arm wrapped around Namjoon’s middle. Namjoon thought to speak to Taehyung a bit more, but the younger cut right across him.

“I’d better get going,” Taehyung patted Jin’s hand before letting go and motioning towards the doors of the cafe, “Y’know, got a date.”

“Right. Come by anytime though - and my phone never changed.” Namjoon felt Jin’s hand tighten around his waist, but still finished his sentence. “It’ll be nice to catch up!”

Taehyung was out of the door quickly, but the last look he threw over his shoulder as he stepped out of the cafe contained so many unspoken words. Namjoon would think about it if Jin had not wrapped his strong arms around Namjoon like a koala to a tree, squeezing the living daylights out of Namjoon.

“What, is he prettier than me?”

Under the soft glowing lights of the cafe, Namjoon’s eyes raked over Jin’s bright eyes, plump lips and soft skin that had no blemishes whatsoever.

“No hyung, you’re the prettiest.”

“That’s right.”

Lips descended, and Namjoon lost himself in the familiar taste that was Kim Seokjin.



Making up for last week, though I'm not even sure if I have time to update this week... Anyway, a belated Merry Christmas to everyone, and a happy new year! Love you all for the support and love for this piece - I'll continue to write and work hard on it <3


As usual, feel free to come speak to me on my instg: bts.n.blume. I sometimes miss messages on the Amino app so... yeah. Again, love you all! Xx

Chapter Text

Is this love

Is this love

  • Love

Namjoon lost himself in the familiar taste that was Kim Seokjin. Or rather, he lost himself to the familiar taste that was Kim Seokjin. He’d always have a soft spot for Kim Seokjin, the beautiful man he is and the beautiful soul he has.

However, throw one Min Yoongi into the mix and Namjoon didn’t know what was happening.

“Could you move out of the stairs so I can put my stuff down then kiss the living daylights out of you both, or would you rather I deliver the kiss across this goddamn box?” Yoongi drawled.

Startled, Namjoon and Jin moved aside, letting Yoongi get to the staircase with a huge box in hand and thump his way up with unnecessarily loud footsteps, muttering about brats who barricade staircases.

“Grandpa Yoongi, be careful not to trip on carpets!” Jin hollered after him cheekily, and if not for the box in his hands, Namjoon believed that Yoongi would probably have flipped him the bird.

In fact, he did balance the box between one hand and the railings of the staircase, and proceeded to raise his middle finger with his back towards their direction.

Jin gasped, stuck his tongue out despite fully knowing that Yoongi couldn’t see it, then blew a loud raspberry at Yoongi’s retreating backside. Yoongi trudged up the remaining few steps with his middle finger raised, dragging the box up the railings with him until he disappeared round the landing.

Namjoon just gaped at the two of them. Yoongi was moving his stuff in, bit by bit. Really. The reality hit him hard, his mind filled with thoughts mostly made up of what the fuck s and how did this happen s. He looked between Jin and Yoongi’s retreating backside - a nice backside by the way - and almost bit his tongue as he willed himself just to say something .

What was he getting himself into!?

It took a poke to his side from Jin, a low sound of whining from the older and Yoongi raising his hand even more - then unable to help himself, Namjoon burst into peals of laughter at the ridiculousness of two grown ass men bickering. To be honest, ignoring all the life questioning that was going on inside Namjoon’s brain, the petulance displayed by the two older ones were priceless. Jin looked fully disrespected by the way he fixed Namjoon with one of his evil gazes that said ‘I’ll get you for that’, though Namjoon was beyond himself.

It took Jin’s lips capturing Namjoon’s to distract Namjoon from not-so-subtly dissing the two older ones, and Jin just dragged Namjoon along with one finger hooking Namjoon’s jeans and towing him up the stairs. Namjoon’s brain just melted, his body chasing after Jin willingly as the older proceeded up the wooden steps.

Almost tripping and falling over multiple steps, Namjoon stumbled onto the landing of their living quarters, hands clutching onto Jin’s shirt, almost clawing their way through the thin material. He could give no flying fucks as he pulled Jin back to him, completely uncaring about Jin’s muffled request to “at least get to the sofa”. He crashed his lips to Jin’s like a man who thirsted for days, again and again, coaxing the eldest to return his kisses with as much enthusiasm as he has.

And that Jin did. He maneuvered them bit by bit to the soft sofa, sneakily inching, or so he thought. The sofa was not for kissing or any, ahem, action, but oh well Namjoon was not someone to say no to deep kissing. Maybe even something more. With little smooches and pecks, Namjoon allowed Jin to push him into the soft cushions placed nicely on their sofa, this time he was the one to slip his fingers into Jin’s waistband to pull the older towards himself.


Namjoon opened his eyes, which he never knew he closed in the first place, and met Yoongi’s eyes. Yoongi stood by the door to the sitting room, his box already out of sight, and he had his hands crossed as he leant on the doorframe, raising an eyebrow at Namjoon.

Jin obviously heard Yoongi too, humming in response, but the older didn’t seem to care. As Namjoon’s head automatically started turning towards Yoongi, Jin simply had one hand on Namjoon’s cheek. Then his tongue was slipping in, past Namjoon’s teeth and tangling sweetly with Namjoon’s tongue.

Namjoon nearly combusted on the spot.

Yoongi quickly flew out of his mind, his thoughts returning to the feel of Jin, the smell of Jin, the oh-so-familiar touch of Jin. There was the faint smell of coffee beans, the flowery smell of Jin’s soap, the smell of their laundry, everything that was homey for Namjoon. He felt familiar warmth spreading through his body, from the tips of his toes to his scalp, and if it were possible, steam would probably be escaping from his ears as he flushed so badly.

“Why are you still so embarrassed?” Jin huffed, his lips still brushing against Namjoon’s in close proximity, “So cute.”

In retaliation, Namjoon nipped Jin’s lips. However, his teeth barely grazed against Jin’s lower lip, and then he was dragged backwards by his shoulders. Hands pressed him into the plush back of the sofa, fingers kneading the area between his neck and shoulder nicely that Namjoon just had to lean back and allow Yoongi’s hands to travel over the expanse of skin that was revealed from all the pulling and pushing around.


Namjoon didn’t actually know who he was calling for, with Jin’s lips and Yoongi’s hands all over him. The two older ones hummed in synchronisation though, and in front of Namjoon’s eyes, a mere millimeters away from his face, Jin’s lips met Yoongi’s.

It was a pure kiss, simply lips on lips, barely grazing. It was Jin and Yoongi, over Namjoon, encasing him as they shared the softest kiss ever.

Namjoon swallowed with difficulty. His mind was both aroused and alarmed at his exs kissing in front of him - yes, he never specifically broke up with Jin, though breaking up was implied the moment Jin announced that he was in love with another, but that another was Yoongi. Despite having history that was not at all painless, Min Yoongi was Namjoon’s first love, and first loves do not lose meaning that easily.

It was all a mess, that Jin just had to find Yoongi and after everything Namjoon himself had invited Yoongi into his life - their life, with a full on invitation. Fuck, Yoongi had moved in after a day, like he’d been waiting for that invitation and on hindsight did he expect to move in with Jin -

“Shut your brain, Joon,” Yoongi rasped, tugging Namjoon out of his overloading mind, “You always think too much.”

“I always say go with the flow, but Joon-ah never seemed to get it. Not one bit.” Jin shook his head with a faux disappointed look, his eyes shining as he stared right into Namjoon’s eyes.

Head swimming, Namjoon perceived his hands held up by Jin, who slowly, one by one, crossed their fingers so Namjoon’s hand was held tight in his. Jin’s hand was scorching warm, strong too, that his grasp was steady and firm. Yoongi copied the move, his boney, lithe musician fingers crossing with Namjoon’s.

“I - we - ”

Yoongi cut directly across Namjoon’s stutter, in the wholly brazen way that Namjoon had loved and hated at the same time. “I thought you knew what we meant when I agreed to move in.”

“You - We never really said…”

“We are what you want to define us as, Joon-ah.” The eldest of them all tightened his fingers, having Namjoon in a vice-like grip that shook him to the core. “I said I’ll always love you, and I won’t back down till you confirm that you’d like to have nothing to do with me.”

“And I guess that I’m the lucky guy, to have gotten myself my first love and my second love all in one place, even if we can’t tell what this is yet.” Yoongi rumbled with the corners of his lips curling up.

Like he already knew Namjoon’s decision.

In a sense, Jin and Yoongi should know exactly what was happening. Sure, Yoongi was the reason he and Jin couldn’t term themselves any more, and Yoongi was already Namjoon’s past, the kind with fond memories and lingering heart aches. But. But there was no denying the chemistry between Namjoon and Yoongi, even after all these years. Jin and Yoongi knew what they were to Namjoon, how Namjoon couldn’t utter the words ‘break up’ to Jin and couldn’t resist Yoongi. They let those loopholes and little implications lie here and there, and they slowly but surely led Namjoon to step into their plans, their little trap that encased all three of them.

That was how Seokjin became Jin again after he admitted that he was attracted to Yoongi, and how Yoongi was invited into their household by Namjoon,with enthusiastic consent from Jin.

And most importantly, Kim Seokjin and Min Yoongi, so different but so alike in some ways, wanted this. Whatever this was that included all three of them.

Namjoon closed his eyes, willing the tears to back down. “I love you. Both of you.”

His heart clenched as those words left his mouth, and his head reeled.

He couldn’t tell what they were yet. There was no label to what they had, what they were at this very moment. However, there was one thing he was so, so indefinitely sure of: Kim Seokjin meant a fucking lot to him and Min Yoongi… Min Yoongi always had this special corner in his heart, as a soulmate and perhaps something more. They both meant so much, in a different way, and even if they did not say it out loud, Namjoon just knew that they wanted this, whatever this was.

That was enough for now, he guessed. He still had all the time of the world afterall.



Whoaaaa I'm amazed at all your comments! Sometimes I swear even if you are confused by me you all can somehow read my mind. Honestly I think my outlook on love is a bit different from people, or just that I am too rational because of stuff that happened, so sometimes my take on situations or feelings is vague. Or that's how I imagine my mind goes - a lot of what ifs and a lot of confusion. Though if anything is confusing in the chapters please let me know - and at the same time show me lots of love too! I really need love to keep writing <333

Ah, and someone not yet mentioned in this fic is appearing next chapter. Guess who? :P



Chapter Text

Yup to fall for it

Yup to dig it up

Yup to crash into it

  • Hope World

He still had all the time of the world afterall, Namjoon thought as he stared at his phone. No rush, relationships come slowly. He should really be working, whether it was coming up with the bass of his newly composed beat, or his assignment that was due in two weeks. Come on, two weeks was barely enough to cough up a worthy assignment, that being he never really read the book in question and this assignment had to be theoretical. Yikes.

Still, his hand tightened around the cold metal of his phone.

Why the fuck isn’t it vibrating? Has the damn phone been set to stop buzzing? Or was the wifi down again in the building? Or was Tae busy? Maybe this wasn’t the right time to text?

Swallowing down, Namjoon tore his eyes away from his phone, which was face down on the table. He had spend enough time staring at the screen, waiting for the message to become read, and for those three dots that meant someone was typing to show on the top of their conversation.

Dot dot dot, that was all he looked for. But he told himself it wasn’t coming. No anticipation means no disappointment.

Disappointment was an understatement by this time, since the conversation below the stupid little smiley face that was Kim Taehyung’s profile picture had stopped five days ago.

But his hands itched towards his phone.

Maybe, just one smiley face - the last message might not have reached him -

“Hi - sorry to interrupt, but you, uh, look a little bit troubled? Do you need any help?”

Namjoon was about to reject the offer as a stranger poked his head around Namjoon’s dorm door.

Ah, must have forgotten to close the door again…

“Thanks, I’m, uh, ok…” Namjoon trailed off, suddenly aware of the mess in his room, even more so of the mess that was himself. “I’m sor - ”

“Whoa whoa whoa no need to apologise, I’m just checking on you,” the dude shook his head, laughing, “Sorry for popping in, I’m your new neighbour!”

That smile the stranger had on his face had momentarily blinded Namjoon, whose brain, filled with a certain Kim Taehyung moments before, stupidly shut down as words spilled out of his mouth.

“Wa, sunshine.”

“Nope, name’s Jung Hoseok. Heard we are both 94-ers too, so let’s be friends!”

It was eerie, watching the stranger, new neighbour, no, Jung Hoseok bob his head. As if some horrific magic trick, a hand popped out behind the door too, motioning to Namjoon in a cheery wave.

That was when Namjoon realised that he’d been sitting in his seat like a rock and allowing his neighbour to stand behind the door.

“I, I’m sorry, please - ” Making his way to stand up, Namjoon winced as his earphones clattered to the floor and his speakers made a weird buzzing noise that was painful to his ears. “Ah, no, erm come in?”

The loud peal of laughter emitting from Jung Hoseok was almost too bright for Namjoon. He could only stand rock still, hands still outstretched to save his earphones which already lay on the floor, and watch as Jung took his hand in a firm grip.

“Nice to meet you formally. Kim Namjoon, yeah?”

The little dimples that popped out on Jung Hoseok’s cheeks were cute. Two little spots indented on his full cheeks, and there was that smile. That smile.

Get a grip on yourself, Kim Namjoon.

“Yeah. I’m just your normal guy next door, so if you need anything you can come find me.”

“Thanks!” Jung Hoseok’s hands clasped around his right hand, and shook enthusiastically, “I’m in dire need to navigate, haven’t been around this area yet actually!”

“I know.” Namjoon said, a second later realising how rude that might have been. He spluttered, almost choking on his own spit as he tried to explain himself, to not leave a bad impression on the new guy, “No, not that way, next door’s been empty last year - ”

Jung Hoseok shook his head, cackling in understanding, “I know, I know, been talking to people downstairs and heard about that. Also there were a lot of people talking about Kim Namjoon, genius shy guy who does music, right? You’re even cuter than I imagined!”

Ears flaming, Namjoon resorted to mildly shaking his head as he knew that no comprehensible word would come out of his mouth anyway. Himself, cute? Fuck, who is this Jung Hoseok and what does he mean -

“You got time now? Care to help me a bit?”

“Sure, no problem.” Namjoon started, stepping finally from the chair. He could feel a draft on his legs, and as he looked down, realised he was in a baggy T-shirt and baggy shorts that dangled dangerously low off his hips.

Uh, this…

“You mind if I, uh, changed first? Maybe, uh, jeans? And uh,” Weakly gesturing to himself and his computer, Namjoon tried to swallow the strange nervousness that bubbled in him, struggled not to wriggle his toes in his slippers which got him even more self aware, if that was possible.

At the moment he must be the epitome of self-awareness. Him, wearing the most stupid gawking expression on his face and clothes that hang off him a size too big. And the mess that was his room too, with books and paper all strewn around...

“Oops, sorry,” Jung Hoseok chuckled, bringing a hand to cover his mouth cutely. His eyes shone, curling into crescents that showed happiness even with his mouth covered. “I’ll leave you to change - come knock when you’re done?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

And then Jung Hoseok’s other hand let go of his. Namjoon almost did a double take - did they shake hands that long - but Jung Hoseok was already retreating out of his room, his bright yellow jacket disappearing behind the heavy dark wood that was Namjoon’s door.

Sighing, Namjoon stood, kicking his feet as he travelled across the small space of his student dorm. He arrived in front of the wardrobe, pulling out a tee and jeans - the outfit was all black, but one cannot do wrong with all black, right?

He had his tee changed and was halfway pulling off his shorts when his door opened. Shocked, he squatted down, pulling the tee he used as pyjamas in front of him and hoped, hoped , that it covered him.

“Sorry, thought that you might need to know I live next door, as in the right room because the other room - ” Jung Hoseok broke off, his cheerful grin turning into comically wide eyes and a mouth so widely open that his jaw was falling to the ground. “Uh. Oops?”

Namjoon never wanted so badly to dig a hole in the ground and hide there. Forever.

“Sorry, just so you know! And wow, you look like you have a nice bod!” Jung Hoseok managed to holler as left quickly, slipping out of the door again and closing it with a firm thud.

Staring after that retreating backside, Namjoon felt two voices in his brain, one wanting to throw his baggy tee at Jung Hoseok and strangle the living daylights out of him, the other telling him to clutch on because this was embarrassing. Too embarrassing.

“Sorry again!”

And Namjoon shoved his face into his tee as Jung Hoseok’s voice came, loud and clear, echoing in the hallway.

What has he gotten himself into?



As usual, here's the update this week :D I saw some of you mention Kookie - no worries, his time will come ahahaha. For now, it's 94 line time! Also, thanks for all your lovely comments xoxo. Kudos and love for this update would be much appreciated <33


Chapter Text

It’s ringing again, that sound

A crack again on this frozen lake

  • Singularity

What has he gotten himself into?

Namjoon watched as Yoongi poured Taehyung another beer, the bubbles frothing and sloshing in the huge beer jar - yes, jar, there was no better word for it - that appeared out of nowhere. Namjoon was almost a hundred percent sure that they didn’t have cups this big in their cafe. No, no one in their right mind would get a glass that was approximately the size of one’s face, even less probable if running a cafe.

Even more shocking, it was Min Yoongi. Min Yoongi who liked to drink in peace, who preferred to be alone and hated people. Who was giving Kim Taehyung his fifth beer for the afternoon.

Was Taehyung’s everyone-loves-Taehyung-at-first-sight magic working on Yoongi too?

He paid his customer, hollered the drink order at the barista, and heard the cashier ring shut. Seriously though, he was working at the counter and there was Yoongi, sitting down so nonchalantly and just giving Taehyung beer - what the hell was happening?

Most importantly, Yoongi was trying to pour even more beer into Taehyung’s jar.


“Ah, you’re here,” Yoongi waved in Namjoon’s general direction, as if Namjoon hasn’t been at the cashier from around an hour ago, “This cutie says he knows you.”

“F- Flom skuu…” Taehyung gargled in response, giving a little hiccup with his eyes watery.

Sighing, Namjoon peeked at the door - alright, no one’s coming in and the street seemed empty - and strolled towards his hyung and dongsaeng at the cosy bar they had.

“From school, that’s what he meant.”

“I assumed.” Yoongi drawled.

“He’s two years younger than you - quit giving him beer, hyung!” Namjoon rolled his eyes and pushed Yoongi’s lifted hand down, preventing the older from pouring any more beer into Taehyung’s nearly-full jar.

The older made a tsk noise. “He can hold his alcohol. Right, Taehyung-ssi?”

“Yesh, I can…”

Turning towards Taehyung, Namjoon could only glare as the younger tottered on his chair, almost slipping off and catching himself last minute.

“That’s a ‘no you can’t’.” Flatly, Namjoon grabbed the jar from its place in front of Taehyung, confiscating it to a corner where only workers of the cafe could reach. “I suppose you came for a reason, though do you still remember it?”

Taehyung returned his question with a silent look, all glassy eyes and pouting mouth.

“No then.” Sighed Namjoon.

Yoongi however, had a completely different opinion. “He’s perfectly fine - look, he doesn’t even seem drunk!”

Oh how Namjoon’s hands itched to whack the older across his thick skull.

“He’s slurring and moving like a toddler.”

“I thought that was his habit?”

Namjoon halted, his brain supplying him with yeah that’s totally right , but quickly pushed that thought away as Taehyung stumbled off his chair again, this time with his fingers barely catching the bar table to prevent himself from face-planting. The younger giggled, while Yoongi barked a laugh that made a few of their customers turn their heads to inspect the noise.

That was when Namjoon decided he didn’t want a Kim Taehyung’s face or body indention on his wooden floors nor tables.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m gonna take him up for a lie down. Man the cashier will you, hyung?”

Yoongi muttered something, but with a meaningful glance from Namjoon he hauled his lazy ass off his stool and walked up to Namjoon, slouching as he passed the gate that led to the workers’ side of the bar.

“Thanks, hyung.”

“He better not do anything weird.” Yoongi said, loud enough for both Namjoon and Taehyung to hear.

Namjoon couldn’t help but smile, allowing Yoongi to press a chaste kiss to his dimple, before ducking and getting to Taehyung. He slung the younger’s arm over his shoulder and heaved, helping the younger straighten up as much as he could and dragging those heavy feet. Taehyung slurred something unintelligible, close to satori by the sounds of it, and Namjoon opted to ignore the drunk.

“Come on, you need to lie down.” He coaxed, dragging Taehyung away from the bar and all the way up to the living quarters.

After nearly banging Taehyung’s head on the door frame for a couple of times and ignoring the thuds that meant some part of the younger’s body had hit the walls or the stairs, Namjoon put Taehyung on the sofa as gently as he could manage. Which meant that the younger flopped and face-planted into the sofa.

Well, at least that was not their expensive wooden floors and tables.

“Five beers and you’re drunk? Pfft.” Namjoon crossed his arms, hearing Taehyung make a muffled noise and sit up gingerly.

“Not… not really.” Taehyung groaned with his hands in his hair. “But gosh what is that beer? I’m so… woozy…”

Swallowing the laugh that was already in his throat, Namjoon opted to roll his eyes and went to the sink, grabbing a clean towel from their kitchen drawer. Cold water ran over his hands and he shivered as he wrung the towel, his fingers going numb for a moment. Then, he strode back to the sofa, letting the wet towel fall on Taehyung’s face with a resounding slap.

“Get up. We both know you can handle more than that.”

Kim Taehyung, who seconds ago had sunk into the sofa and laid on it like he was boneless, sat up straight and wiped his face with the towel with his eyes closed. As his eyelashes fluttered, his eyes opened to reveal a strong glint - not watery, but clear as crystals.

“Hyung, it hurt,” Taehyung whined. His large hands clutched the wet towel, dragging it over his face and neck again before folding it nicely on the coffee table. Despite his careful actions, the wet cloth slapped onto the wood, making a heavy sound, and with that, Taehyung shrugged, leaning back into the backrest of the sofa.

Namjoon didn’t spare the towel another second thought. “What do you want?”

The younger simply crossed his arms and pouted. For a moment, memories in Namjoon’s mind thrusted him back to years ago, when the younger would pout and cross his arms when things didn’t go his way. Taehyung was still like that, sometimes unable to understand the social aspects of how people relate to people and how to mingle in a crowd despite being a charmer.

How long had that been? Four years?

“Taehyung-ah, you need to talk.” Namjoon explained, keeping his voice neutral. Snippets of memories ran round and round in his brain, all Taehyung. Taehyung pouting, stomping his feet, getting angry with a frown that accented his strong brows...

And Taehyung was now in front of him. With the same pout, with just a little angle of cocking his head to the side.

Namjoon knew. Just like before, Taehyung hadn't changed.

He couldn’t understand.



Ahhhh update!!  Thank you for all the love and support in kudos and comments! I'm glad that my readers have enjoyed the sweetness and all the (un)necessary feelings in this fic <333 And uh, I might miss one update or two in the following week(s) since I'm out of the country, but no worries - I'll only miss two weeks' worth of update max. Still, I need lots of love and support, so... <333



Chapter Text

Reach my hand out to cover the mouth

But in the end, spring will come someday

  • Singularity

He couldn’t understand.

Taking a deep breathe, Namjoon tried again. “You know you need to talk. I’ve always said - I can’t read your mind, Taehyung.”

“But I swear you can - ”

Namjoon shook his head. “I can’t.”

“But - ”

One look, just a baleful look from Namjoon and the younger halted. Taehyung searched in Namjoon’s eyes, but whatever he was looking for, it wasn’t there. Slowly, his eyes welled with tears, and droplets cascaded down his perfect face, rolling down his cheeks and melting as dark spots on his shirt. Namjoon fought the need to rub his face and pushed down the urge to just take Taehyung into his embrace like he did, so many times before.

But no, things were not the same. Haven’t been the same for a long, long time.

Mind running off, Namjoon remembered the old days, when he was Namjoon-hyung and Taehyung was Tae-ah. They had fun, so much laughter, then like an old radio they just ended with a static burst.

Funny how people come and go in life.

“Namjoon-hyung, I -  I...”

The younger broke off again as a sob wracked his body. Thin, lithe, his shadow on the floorboards of the sitting room was a small, wavering patch. Namjoon’s eyes watered, and he had to convince himself that it was just the rays of the setting sun outside the window that shone in his eyes.

“I’m… so - ”

And goddamn Kim Taehyung was beautiful even as he cried. Tear-stained cheeks, sniffling nose and scrunched up expression did not harm his visuals, and the sunlight outside had left a halo on his head, making him shine in rays of yellow, red, pink and hue.

Namjoon was sure of this: Kim Taehyung was loved by whatever deity who made this world.

“You know, I’ve always felt that you were loved. By the world, by everything, even the unworldly.” Namjoon started, taking a deep breathe to calm his erratic heart. It wouldn’t do to falter. Plus, he already had an inkling of what Taehyung needed to say - and he himself needed to hear it. “Animals love you. People love you.”

In his low voice, Taehyung gave a bark of laughter. He wiped his face with his own sleeves, leaving dark streaks on his shirt, but he didn’t care. The younger then inched closer to Namjoon on the sofa, gingerly reaching forward until his hand was a soft reminder on Namjoon’s arm.

“I always wondered if you loved me.”

Taehyung was shaking, his hand cold and vibrating against Namjoon’s skin.

“And I always wondered if you loved me.” Namjoon replied, his voice cracking.

They fell silent. The room was quiet, nothing moved. Not even the curtains that would flutter with the lightest breeze. And all there was, two unmoving silhouettes and their shadows crossing the room, thrown by the sinking sun.

Suddenly, there was a creaking sound, and the door that separated the room and the stairs to the cafe swung open, revealing Yoongi who was wiping his hands with a towel.

“Ah, sorry. Not done?”

Namjoon spared a glance at Taehyung, who had his head down. He couldn’t see the younger’s expression, but when his line of sight landed on Yoongi, who was starting to raise his eyebrows, he shook his head.

“No, but almost.” Taehyung’s hand tightened on his arm, though Namjoon paid no heed. “Need coffee, hyung?”

“You trying to keep me awake for something?” Yoongi chuckled as he made his way to the open kitchen, moving around with the ease of someone who is used to the environment.

Namjoon returned the laugh, his spirit uplifted a little. “Maybe.”

The hand on Namjoon’s arm tightened one more time, and then retracted. Shifting on the sofa, Taehyung fixed his shirt, smoothing down the creases on his sleeve with utmost concentration and ignoring the wet patches that adorned his stylish shirt.

“I… should get going.”

“Oh no, not on my expense. I’ll leave you to finish your conversation.” Yoongi waved a hand in the air, retreating towards the staircase with a cup in hand. “Don’t mind me.”

The door closed behind Yoongi with a thud. Namjoon turned to Taehyung, who was straightening his legs and getting up from the sofa. There was so much to say, yet at the same time, nothing to say. His brain froze and he just stood there, not knowing what to do as Taehyung strode to the door.

“Will you see me out?”

Namjoon sprung up from his seat. “Wha - yes, of course.”

Pursuing anything was meaningless anyway, especially when the mood was gone. Namjoon supposed Yoongi knew what he did, and although it meant that this conversation was cut short, Namjoon felt more at ease because it was cut.

Footsteps of feet against the wooden stairs, swinging open the door to be greeted with the familiar sound and smell of the cafe, and then the main door swung open.

“Namjoon… hyung.”

In response, Namjoon hummed. Kim Taehyung turned to the older, his facial features half hidden in the shadows and half illuminated by the bright light of the cafe interior.

“You know what I want to say, right?” The corners of Taehyung’s lips downturned, “Even though you keep saying you don’t.”

“I don’t know what you want to say until you say it, Taehyung.”

Honestly, the conversation was turning philosophical, and anyone listening in would probably ponder about life and meaning after hearing their words. Despite all the irony of Namjoon not being a good talker and Kim Taehyung being so very mystic with his words, Namjoon understood that both of them knew what each other meant.


Before Namjoon could react, Taehyung had thrown himself at the older, long arms wrapping around Namjoon’s middle and the top of his head butting at Namjoon’s jugular painfully. With his back curled, Taehyung burrowed himself into Namjoon, so hard that both of them stumbled sideways into the brick wall of the cafe with a heavy sound.

“You… really should stop making me stumble into stuff.” Namjoon said.

Taehyung’s voice was weak, “Did I make you stumble?”

“All the time.”

The rest was left unsaid. Taehyung clung on for just a few seconds more, then let go. He stepped backwards onto the pavement, away from the wall, and the natural light of the outdoors fell on his face.

Nearby, a group of girls turned towards him and shoved each other, giggling. A little dog yipped across the street and jumped excitedly in his direction, as if eager to bound to him. Even a man around his thirties, who just exited the cafe, stared at Taehyung’s face a little too long to be a passing look.

Kim Taehyung really is loved by the world.

“Can I still come to your cafe, hyung?”

Namjoon squinted, his eyes once more hurting.

“Yeah. Yeah, you can.” He croaked, voice coming out more shattered than he imagined.

Taehyung smiled. Not the usual bright, boxy smile. This was a tight-lipped smile, a stretch of his pretty, pinkish lips that wavered.

“And I’m sorry, hyung. For what happened.” Taehyung closed his eyes, and at the moment, Namjoon felt the dire need to, too. “So sorry.”



I'm back, sorry for the wait! Thank you all, I had a safe trip :) As usual, I need lots of love ;)))



Chapter Text

It’s weird, we’re connecting too much

Feels like everything will go well

But you’re my Friend, yeah my Friend


  • Just Dance

“..So sorry…”

Namjoon snapped back to the present, and Jung Hoseok was apologising profusely in front of him, almost kneeling on the ground as he half bent in a bowing position. Feeling his ears flame, Namjoon stuttered as Jung Hoseok kept muttering apologies, trying not to bring himself back to the embarrassing moment of being caught with his, ahem, pants off. Not in that way, no, but…

“I should’ve known. Sorry again.”

“No need to say that many sorrys. I’m pretty sure you’ll see a lot of nakedness around a boys’ dorm,” Namjoon laughed, wishing the heat in his ears would just cool down , damnit, “You’ll see a lot of stuff you’d wanna unsee.”

Jung Hoseok simply laughed. “Well, you were a pretty sight.”


“I mean, sorry for not knocking, but I enjoyed the view.”

Blankly, Namjoon’s mind went on shut down. He saw Jung Hoseok wink at him with that pretty mouth of his in a cute heart shape, but what did he mean? Like what did he mean ?

“You frown when you think - don’t do that. You’ll have wrinkles.”

Jung Hoseok’s words had Namjoon’s brain going on shut down again. What was he saying? The topic of their chat was skipping too quickly and Namjoon could basically hear his brain whirring and trying so hard to understand what Jung Hoseok meant.

And damn Jung Hoseok with that cute, bright smile of his. Damn him.

“And yeah, can I call you Namjoon? You can just call my name too, since we’re both 94-ers?”

Uh, what?

Before Namjoon’s brain understood the new question, his head had already nodded. He swallowed down a sigh that was directed more at his own brain than Hoseok. Yeah, just go with the flow, Namjoon-ah , his brain not-so-helpfully supplied, and Namjoon barely stopped himself from rubbing his face in frustration. His heart didn’t help either. Thump thump thump it went, and whenever Hoseok so much as fluttered his lashes, Namjoon could feel his heart skipping.

There was that laugh again, ringing laughter from Hoseok who happily called him ‘Namjoon-ah’. Namjoon could hear his own breath hitch, and Hoseok reached forward, hands sliding over Namjoon’s middle as if they belonged there, bringing them into a tight hug.

“Uh, you - ”

“Sorry not sorry, couldn’t help it.” Hoseok chuckled. “You’re too cute, you know?”

Hoseok was so warm, his hands strong and tight around Namjoon’s waist. For a rare moment in his life, Namjoon wondered if he was stupid. Because his brain was melting down far too much in one day.

But fuck it . His brain could rest for the day.

“You’re cuter.” Namjoon replied.

“Yeah? Thanks, Namjoon-ah.”

They just stayed there for a minute or so, wrapped around each other. Namjoon relished in the feeling - how long had it been? He’d been holed up in his room, not wanting to go out, not really leaving the dorms except for food, because……

The thought of that made him freeze, his heart going cold immediately.

And obviously, Hoseok had felt that.


“It’s nothing.” Namjoon came back to his senses, his arms lifting to push Hoseok off him. To his surprise, Hoseok didn’t even budge. “Uh, Hoseok?”


“Erm, aren’t you letting go?” Namjoon pushed the second time, his palms against Hoseok’s shoulders.

Still, Hoseok didn’t budge. Honestly, Namjoon could feel muscle beneath the filmsy clothing, which he couldn’t judge whether that made him more shocked or hot. Perhaps both in the same amount, though he was sure of one thing: Hoseok definitely was to some extent ripped beneath his clothes.

Pushing the third time, Namjoon found himself brought back, squashed flat against Hoseok’s torso.

Okay, make that quite ripped below those clothes .

“What are you thinking?”

Namjoon paused, his chin hooked against Hoseok’s shoulder. That was the only position he could be in, or else he would find his face directly in Hoseok’s. Which would be even more embarrassing.

Even worse, seemed Hoseok was way more straightforward and unrelenting than Namjoon ever would be.

“What are you thinking, Namjoon?”

Namjoon could only counter. “We only met today.”

“Romeo and Juliet met for like hours before they decided to marry each other.”

“And they died for that. Miscommunication issues and teenage issues, yeah?”

For that retort, Namjoon found himself more impossibly snuggled against Hoseok as the other tightened his arms until it was borderline painful. They went in a silent tug of war for a bit, Namjoon struggling with his weak, frail arms and Hoseok basically pinning him like a lion with a deer.

Then Namjoon decided that there was nothing he could do against this rock of a human which was Jung Hoseok. “Honestly, how ripped are you?” He asked in frustration.

“More ripped than people would imagine.” Was Hoseok’s cheeky reply. “I dance, so all that muscle building? Could show you, even let you touch, if we…… got to know each other better.”

Gulping, Namjoon tried not to let his mind stray off. Nope. Can’t. Shouldn’t.

“Could feel you vibrating with thoughts, you know. Stop thinking, start talking.”

“Shut up.”

“Nope. If you aren’t talking, I should do the active work.”

Namjoon didn’t know what to do. Here he was, held against someone he felt was hot and probably way beyond his league and they’d just met and……

“And I’m trying to get to know you better. I like you.”

Shot to the heart.

Trying so hard, so hard to not just swoon and melt that very minute, Namjoon gave the weakest push against Hoseok. Finally Hoseok let go, bringing Namjoon barely an arm’s length away.

“I think I heard you wrong.” Namjoon whispered, fully aware of how their breathes mingled with the close proximity. “Or I’m dreaming this whole situation.”

“If anyone’s dreaming, it’s me. I saw my ideal type and one minute later he was half naked in front of me,” Hoseok laughed, and Namjoon saw his eyes, bright like two little suns, crinkle into the cutest crescents, “Total dream come true, don’t you think?”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. Not joking.”

And Jung Hoseok leant forward slowly. So slow that it was obvious he would let Namjoon push him away if Namjoon decided to do so, so surely that his eyes never even wavered as they met Namjoon’s.

Then Namjoon felt a pair of lips on his, fiery hot like the goddamn sun that shone so brightly outside the window and reflected painfully in his eyes. They were kissing, though it was only lip on lip. A chaste kiss, so simple, yet as Hoseok let him go and smiled that smile of his, Namjoon felt as if he was handed everything he ever wanted in this world.



Yeahhh I'm back with another chap! Finally :)))) As usual, lots of love please! And a belated birthday to Hobi who is the ultimate sunshine <3


Chapter Text

My love stripped bare, the stormy winds

They make me run again, my heart beats again

  • Run

Namjoon felt as if he was handed everything he ever wanted in this world as the sweet smell of lemon tea wafted over to him. He took off his earphones and lifted his head up just in time to meet Jin’s lips, the older bending over to peck him on the lips as the cup was gently put down on the tabletop.



The two shared a smile, and Jin turned to the side, seemingly wanting to grab a chair, or just to conceal the fact that his ears were all red. Both of them were flushing. Perhaps Namjoon had added to that, by licking his lips, but it wasn’t really his fault as he surrendered to the lingering taste on his lips that was sweeter than any drink Jin could’ve given him.

“Stop smacking your lips, you’re embarassing me.” Jin bemoaned as he dragged a chair towards Namjoon. It was already a habit, leaving two empty chairs inside Namjoon’s studio as Jin and Yoongi might appear out of nowhere and hang out there.

Namjoon couldn’t help but grin, making a show of smacking his lips and making kissy sounds. “You taste sweet - it’s all your fault I’m liking the taste too much.”

“That’s called lipbalm, you neanderthal,” Retorted Jin, albeit smiling and blowing back a kiss while making finger guns, “You should use some too, weather’s getting colder and drier.”

Balm might be good idea, Namjoon wondered as he sipped his lemon tea. Though with second thoughts…

He leant over, caught Jin in another kiss and made sure that he pressed his lips right across the older’s.

“Yep, applied lip balm.”

That got him a hit from Jin, but worth . Right, a barrage of quick slaps by Jin, which hurt a bit considering the older was hitting Namjoon’s upper arm.

It was alright though.

“That way you also make sure that I applied lip balm!”

“Oh shut up!” With a final hit, Jin finally retracted his hand. “Now, where’s that sick beat Yoongs told me about?”

As if on cue, there came a quick session of knocks on the studio door. Without the two of them needing to say anything, Yoongi poked his head in, hair askew and wind blown.

“I heard something about me? And a beat?”

Okay then, back to work .

Ensuring everyone had a drink and was happy in their seats, Namjoon settled and unplugged his earphones, showing everything he was working on to Jin and Yoongi. A full on discussion session proceeded, making twists and alters here and there until they were happy.

Until the alarm clock buzzed, Namjoon was sinking in beats and melodies. It must have been the same for Jin and Yoongi two, as both jumped in their seats and startled, looked around for the source of the noise.

“Ah, your turn at the counter?” Jin remarked, peeking at the clock. “Need me to cover? I could, and you two can finish the piece.”

“It’s just the ending,” Shaking his head, Namjoon saved his work and yawned, “Can work on it later. Not even in a rush.”

Even more straightforwardly, Yoongi took Jin’s drink and pressed it into Jin’s hands, pushing the eldest gently back into his seat. “Take a rest, hyung. We can deal with it.”

Opening his mouth but closing it again, Jin nodded, sipping on his tea. Namjoon packed his equipment, sweeping up his notes and tidying the table before turning back to the two. For a moment he thought he saw Jin and Yoongi exchange a silent conversation, the kind with eyes and expressions, yet as he blinked, the two weren’t even looking at each other. Jin was staring contentedly into his cup and Yoongi was beckoning Namjoon, hand ready to open the studio door.

Oh well .

Following behind Yoongi, Namjoon went down the stairs and was met with the familiar smell of their cafe. He watched as Yoongi went behind the counter, swinging an apron over himself and there were letters sewn onto the cloth in little stitches: Min.

“I still feel like you should’ve used chosen ‘Yoon’.” Namjoon nudged Yoongi to the side as he grabbed his own apron, which has been replaced ( RIP to the previous apron that just fell apart at the seams ), and his fingers trailed his own stitched name of Joon. “Yoon and Joon, that sounds cuter, doesn’t it?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and gave Namjoon a dirty look. “I don’t do cute.”

The fact that Yoongi was more of a disgruntled kitten than anything most of the time had Namjoon stiffling a laugh, but he knew better than to poke the older too much. After all, kittens had claws too, and Namjoon was not really a fan of being scratched. Leaving the conversation, Namjoon tied his apron gingerly, in case he accidentally pulled it apart again, and went to the counter with his usual smile for customers.

Drinks, food, drinks, food. Noting down order after order, Namjoon was robotically counting change and reciting orders by the second hour until the influx of people wanting tea were all gone. As no more people came in, Namjoon spared a glance out the clear windows - it was near sunset, the skies painted in a myriad of red, orange and gold which reflected onto the wooden floors of the cafe in specks of coloured light.

And he let his mind wander, the coloured specks of light, bittersweet smell of coffee, perhaps with the tinkling of windchimes -

Tinkling of windchimes?

Before Namjoon could react, Yoongi had already taken his place at the counter. In his low and bored voice, Yoongi clicked at the counter with practiced ease, “Welcome, may I take your order?”

“I would like - ”

Windchimes rang again, and Namjoon momentarily forgot the faceless customer at the counter. There was the familar figure of Taehyung striding through the cafe door, straight up to the counter and grabbing Namjoon’s hand in a firm grasp.

“Gosh Namjoon-hyung I’m dying of thirst - ”

“... Namjoon?”

Momentary silence. Namjoon felt himself freeze as he turned to the customer who was faceless the minute before, only to come face to face with a familiar heart-shaped smile. Kim Taehyung’s grip on Namjoon’s hand was borderline painful, Jung Hoseok’s smile was quickly turning into an unhappy triangle, and most importantly...

Yoongi’s eyes were hardening with a dangerous glint.


Now THIS is what I call a cliffhanger ehehehehe. Thoughts? And also, needing lots of love and support here :DDDD

Hope you've all enjoyed this update - see you next week ;)))



Chapter Text

Don’t let go of my hand forever

I won’t let go of you again either

  • First Love

Yoongi’s eyes were hardening with a dangerous glint, and Namjoon couldn’t help but take a step back. Normal Yoongi was an easily pissed Yoongi, but a pissed Yoongi? Pissed Yoongi™ was not someone to mess with.

Namjoon remembered news he’d heard from old schoolmates who kept tabs on Yoongi. They talked about Yoongi’s life, his music, what he was doing. Once Namjoon overheard that Yoongi was involved in some kind of accident, another time that the older was seen near a brawl. But once, once there was someone who really pissed the older off, and the diss track that came after that was Epic . Not the kind that swore all the time, nor the kind that involved people’s parents - it was simple words, but so brutal that anyone who heard it was practically shivering.

And at the moment, Pissed Yoongi™ was frowning at Hoseok, who was staring open-mouthed at Namjoon.

“Hey, I thought you wanted to order?” Yoongi asked monotonously, “You ready or what.”

Hoseok’s rushed apology of ‘sorry’ was all Namjoon managed to hear before it was mixed into Taehyung’s babbling, the younger starting to talk with his hand still clamped onto Namjoon’s arm.

“ - so cool! Namjoon-hyung, lemme tell you, I met - ”

“Ah, no we do not have expresso today, the machine broke.”

“ - and there he was, just moving like - ”

“ - we’ve run out of green tea too - ”

“ - and then I was like, whoa - ”

“Sorry, what exactly do you have?”

Through the mess of conversations, Hoseok’s voice cut in and snapped sharply, which was completely not his character at all.

Startled, Namjoon spun towards Yoongi and Hoseok at the counter. Yoongi had his arms crossed in front of his chest, and Hoseok was sporting the most annoyed look Namjoon had ever seen on his face.

“What, I am just stating what we don’t have. If you need those drinks that badly, you can always find another coffee shop? There’s one just a street away.” Yoongi calmly stated.

The older looked so calm, his face void of emotion. However, Namjoon could just sense the emotions bubbling below, almost breaking the surface. It was there, anger and frustration and annoyance, and it was like lava ready to erupt.

“I mean,” Hoseok took a deep breath, “You don’t have expresso, you don’t have tea, what exactly do you have?”

“I have a boyfriend.”

As soon as Yoongi said that, Namjoon felt a hand on his shoulder, wrenching him over with solid force. All he knew was Yoongi’s face closing in and him being pulled towards the older so quickly. Yoongi broke him out of Taehyung’s grasp, and in shock, Namjoon felt Yoongi kiss him right on the mouth, tongue inching in smoothly and tangling with his own with practiced ease.

Catcalls and whistles could be heard, and from somewhere in the back of the cafe there came squeals.

Oh my god, so many people are watching!

Making a move to pull away, Namjoon felt a tug on his apron. Yoongi’s lips were still on his, though his tongue had retracted. It was purely lip on lip, but as Namjoon met Yoongi’s eyes, glassy with whirling emotions that he could barely read, he mentally sight and thrusted his tongue into the older’s mouth instead.

He wasn’t stupid, per say. He could read situations and emotions ( most of the time anyways ) and at this very exact moment, he could feel jealousy behind all that anger and frustration from Yoongi. And it hurt a little to know that his interactions with others could hurt Yoongi.

Fiercely, Namjoon licked into Yoongi’s mouth, feeling with satisfaction that the older had half-melted into their embrace. Tongues danced, teeth clicking together in harmonious rhythm, until Yoongi was the one to take a step back.

Then before he could say anything, Namjoon had grabbed him, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and whispered, “I’m going back up. Join us soon, yeah?”


“Love you.”

“L- Love you too.” Yoongi said, his voice lower than a whisper. “Now shoo. Want you out of their sight.”

Namjoon could only laugh. “Sure, sweetie. Whatever you want.”

To Namjoon’s surprise, the older flushed as he said that. Red spread across Yoongi’s piump cheeks and to the tips of his ears, so very adorably that Namjoon almost cooed on spot. Before Cute Yoongi™ turned back to Pissed Yoongi™, Namjoon quickly turned on his heels without a backwards glance, slipping back to their living quarters.

He heard the door shut behind him, the sounds of the cafe fading into nothing. His footsteps against the stairs, the occasional creak of wood, then he toed off his shoes to step into his household slippers.

And almost fell down the stairs as a cough came nearby.

“Oh my god - ”

“Not god, just Jin.” Jin said, frowning as he righted Namjoon. The older had caught him in a stance that was more deja vu than anything - the conventional Hollywood male-romantically-catches-female-falling stance, or rather, the infamous dipping move.

With his waist bent backwards awkwardly, it hurt to laugh, but Namjoon did so anyway. He giggled in Jin’s arms, and felt the older do so too, by the way his arms shook. Scared to really fall down the stairs, Namjoon righted them up by throwing himself into Jin’s arms, and heard the older make a wheezing noise as they backed into the doorframe that led to the sitting room.

“You’re - You’re gaining more weight than I imagined,” Jin made that squeaky laugh that he always does, “I think I’m feeding you too well!”

About to retort, Namjoon recalled the food he’d had at home in the past month. Okay, homemade fried chicken, cake, steak, bulgogi… Stop right there, Kim Namjoon .

“I’m not fat.” Was all Namjoon managed in return.

“Never said you were.”

“...... huh.”

More squeaky laughs, Jin revelled so clearly in Namjoon’s defeat, by the silence of the younger. They entangled near the door, Namjoon enjoying the warmth of Jin seeping into him, reaching under his skin and into his blood, until his senses were filled to the brim with just Jin.

Another pair of hands inched around his waist. Namjoon felt light pressure against his back, and Jin moved, his arms wrapping over the newcomer.

“Welcome back.”

Yoongi patted the two of them on the arm, moving over to give Jin a brief hug also. He gave Namjoon a glance, then turned to Jin with a wretched smirk on his face.

“Jin-hyung, you won’t believe what happened.”

Namjoon gulped, suddenly fearing for his life.



Ahhhhhhh I see you all enjoyed the last cliffhanger kekekeke... What do you think will happen next?

As usual, love and support would be appreciated <333



Chapter Text

Still, I want to stretch my hand out

I want to run, just a bit more

  • Awake

Jin took his cup of steaming tea and sat on the little armchair beside Namjoon’s bed. It was a piece of furniture that was seldomly sat in - Namjoon had his books stacked on it most often than not, using the armchair more as a bedside table.


“Nuh uh,” Jin tutted, sipping on his tea with his pinky finger upraised, like some posh old woman sipping her afternoon tea, “Not yet. Let Yoongi finish.”

The second oldest in the room dabbed his mouth with a napkin, having downed an expresso in a mouthful, proceeding to crumple the napkin up in a ball and making a clean shot into the bin. It was one of those times that reminded Namjoon that Yoongi was, indeed, a basketball player despite that physique, but no good bin shot could stop Namjoon from wanting to curl into himself at the moment.

“There’s nothing much, just a good guess that Namjoon-ah knows those two.” Yoongi rounded to the youngest with a small smile. “You do, don’t you?”

More creeped out by that smile, Namjoon nodded weakly. Thankfully he still remembered the most important bit that the other two should know. “They haven’t been in contact for years though.”

Both of the older guys hummed. Nervous, Namjoon wiped his hands on his jeans, getting rid of the sweaty feeling although he was not really physically sweating. He then took hold of Yoongi’s hand, tapping into the aegyo that was dug out from within him.

“Ah hyuuung, you know nothing happened.”

A hint of a smile could be found on Yoongi’s face as his lips twitched. Jin almost spat his mouthful of tea back into his cup, coughing loudly as he gulped the whole cup down and made a face.

“What was that?”

“Uh, tactics?” Namjoon sheepishly watched as the eldest groaned about how the tea was scalding his throat and his mouth hurt.

Meanwhile, Yoongi was trying his damned hardest to be difficult to please.

“No tactics is getting you out of this one. Come on, what did Kim Taehyung want to talk to you about, and who is that guy with the triangle mouth? He obviously reacted to your name.”

Ah damn .

Namjoon flopped onto his bed, wanting a bit of comfort from the soft covers. He could feel two pairs of eyes boring into him, and realised that they really did want the whole story.

Why don’t they realise that talking about history is weird? Namjoon thought, rubbing his face with his hands. He suddenly felt tired, more on a psychological level, and felt a headache coming on as his mind helpfully recalled the faces of Kim Taehyung and Jung Hoseok from memory.

“Why don’t you start from Kim Taehyung? He was trying to make conversation to see how you were doing.” Yoongi offered, not really as a peace offering, more like a conflict offering in Namjoon’s eyes, but it was something bothering him so Namjoon could somehow understand.

Sighing, Namjoon sat up, taking Jin’s hand and Yoongi’s hand. He could feel Yoongi’s hand slightly shaking, but Jin’s hand was as steady as ever. With one hand holding Namjoon, Jin reached across and took Yoongi’s open hand too.

“It’s okay.”

Just one simple sentence. One simple sentence was enough. Namjoon felt both hands tighten in his palms, and the words spilled out of his mouth easily. Not the entire story, just bits and pieces of what happened between what Yoongi saw and a little background on who Kim Taehyung and Jung Hoseok was. The ‘ex’ word came out more easily than imagined, and when Namjoon finally stopped talking, he was met with two grinning faces.

“Wha - ”

“See, that wasn’t so hard.”

It was hard, in a sense . Thrust into memories that were not at all happy, Namjoon could only grip the hands of his two loves. But they were there, they were by his side, and it seemed that everything was alright.

Seemed that everything was alright.

But usually, nothing was really alright when exs were in the conversation. Fully prepared for those grinning faces to morph into ugly expressions at any moment, it came as a shock when two kisses landed on Namjoon’s knuckles. Then two on his palms, two down his elbows, two on his shoulders.


Two kisses on his neck. And again. Smooches that were wet and soft, so very soothingly soft. Namjoon could feel the brush of Jin and Yoongi’s hair on his neck - it tickled, but it was the good sort of tickle that made him all gooey inside. Suddenly he wanted to see them. See Jin’s bright eyes and Yoongi’s cat-like lips. Wanted to ingrain their very faces into his mind forever and ever, because they were just too lovely to be true.

And too lovely to be his.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I love you?” Jin’s exhasperated voice came, with warm breath caressing Namjoon’s ear, “Stop thinking too much, your brain is overheating.”

“No, I - ”

Before Namjoon could say anymore, he felt Jin lick a wet stripe up his ear, and hands, slightly cold, slipped under his shirt, wandering dangerously on his skin. Without needing to look, Namjoon knew those were Yoongi’s hands. Large, boney, slightly cooler than usual, but on Namjoon’s skin that contact was fiery hot.

Oh. Oh .

As tongues tangled and fingers danced on bare skin, all thoughts went out of the window. All there was, all that mattered was Jin and Yoongi and Joon. Clutching onto the wide shoulders of Jin, Namjoon could hear his sweet whispers, murmurings of love, love, love.

Fingers smoothed down his neck, his shoulders, inching to his waist and curling around it. Another pair of lips sucked on the back of his neck, first a little reminding nip, and then a particularly painful bite.

“Ya, Yoongi-hyung!”


The older pressed a kiss on the spot, not at all sorry by the way he nipped down Namjoon’s spine. Marks must have been left all the way, by the way Yoongi hummed and scraped his teeth dangerously near Namjoon’s jugular. Jin made a little noise, then nipped Namjoon’s waist hard with a pointed look towards the youngest among them. It drew a soft moan from Namjoon, and Jin bared his teeth in a hyena-like grin as he proceeded.

The three of them tangled in the sheets, wrapping around one another lazily in a tangle of limbs. Until the sun washed the sky in hues did they finally curl in for sleep. Between Jin and Yoongi, Namjoon could feel a smile creep onto his face.

“Love you.” Came a low whisper. “Both of you.”

“Love you too, Yoongi-hyung. And Jin-hyung.”

Jin nudged Namjoon gently and pressed a soft kiss onto Yoongi’s cheek as he lifted his upper body over the youngest. Namjoon copied that, nipping Yoongi’s jaw in retaliation for all those marks littering his back, and got a nip on the chin from Yoongi. Sharing a glance, Namjoon and Yoongi burst into muffled laughter and all three of them snuggled even closer.

Then in the low humming of Jin’s sweet voice, Namjoon felt himself drift off to sweet, sweet sleep.



Ehehehehehe ;)))))) Hope you all enjoyed this update. As usual, please give me lots of love and support!



Chapter Text

Music playing in those vibes

We each stretch

Getting rid of the nerves

  • Just Dance

Namjoon felt himself drift off to sweet, sweet sleep…

And then sat up abruptly.

Thoughts ran through his mind, forming heavy clouds of frustration that were dark and almost painful. From beyond his closed door he could hear music, beats rolling in through the heavy wood and the vibrations spreading over the floor.

He sighed and flipped his blanket over his head. No avail, he could still feel the rhythm and his brain was clearing more and more. Yeah, this beat was nice - quirk it a little there, lower the tone a little here - right, he was supposed to sleep.

The music tuned up, melody now ringing clear.

Ugh… how can I sleep like this? Namjoon thought to himself as he tossed and turned. His stomach growled at this moment, and he thumped his head on his pillow as he gave up. Sitting up, he reached for his slippers with his toes and with the slightest hint of satisfaction, left his bed in search for food.

Stepping out of his room, Namjoon tried not to pay attention to the noise. In fact, it was from Jung Hoseok’s room, he could feel it as he passed that room on his way to the shared kitchen of their dorm. The vibrations so heavy that the wooden floors danced with the bass, and every so often, there would be some notes, the faintest sound of melody that slipped into the corridor.

Slippers slapping against the uncarpeted floor, Namjoon grabbed the bread he stored in his cupboard, and peeking, found that he still had like half of the bag left.

Nice! That could do for a midnight snack and tomorrow’s breakfast…


Almost tripping over his own feet in shock, Namjoon barely caught his bag of midnight snack slash breakfast as he stumbled, only to be caught by a pair of strong arms.

By strong, it meant muscular, muscular strong.

“Uh… whoa…”

“Good… night?” Hoseok smiled down at him, arms still wrapped around Namjoon’s middle securely. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was.” Namjoon replied curtly, suddenly remembering the very reason he was awake was right in front of him. He couldn’t help but give Hoseok a side-eye. “Until I woke up.”

Awkward silence. Hoseok let go as Namjoon righted himself, then scratched his head with a frown. “Sorry, I didn’t notice the noise was going through the walls.”

… What was Namjoon supposed to say? Hoseok realised the problem and apologised so quickly and straightforwardly that Namjoon found his anger, which wasn’t even that kind of really angry anger, more like frustration at himself for not being able to fall asleep, quickly disappearing.

“Uh, it’s okay...” Namjoon broke off, unsure of what to say. It was eerie, with the faint noise of music muted by Hoseok’s door and just random thrumming through the walls. There was a rustling sound, and while Namjoon jumped, he realised it was the bag of bread clutched in his hand.

To Namjoon’s surprise, it was Hoseok who gave a low shout, visibly launching himself off the floor as he jumped. There was a really scared looked on Hoseok’s face, his expression paling by the minute as he looked around suspiciously.

“Did you hear some noise?”


Namjoon made a rustling sound again. In front of him, Hoseok, who was staring at the ceiling as if something would jump him, immediately launched himself into Namjoon’s chest. His fingers came to crinkle Namjoon’s tee, and his whole body was basically sticking onto Namjoon.

Now that was unexpected. Namjoon froze, not knowing if he should push Hoseok off or let him be. The poor dude, barely older than him by a few months, was shivering as he buried his head into Namjoon’s chest in a position that probably was impossible for Namjoon’s rigid body. Hell, Namjoon couldn’t even bend himself ninety degrees.

“You - ”

“Something’s coming! I heard something, I swear I heard something!” Hoseok whispered urgently. “Come on, let’s go. My room? Your room?”

Unable to help himself, Namjoon laughed out loud. He raised his hand and crinkled the bag in his hands, with Hoseok staring at him as if he’d grown a second head. Silent disbelief, awakening moment, and then Jung Hoseok was throwing himself against the wall, wailing about how embarassing he was and how stupid he was for not realising what the noise was.

Namjoon could only pat Hoseok on the shoulder until he calmed down. When Hoseok finally did, he was flushed from head to toe, and his hands were firmly covering his face only to show the blood-red tips of his ears.

“I’m sorry,” As a peace offering, Namjoon gave Hoseok a consolatory hug, wrapping his arms around the hunched over form of his flatmate, “I didn’t know you would get that scared.”

“I’m not scared.” Came Hoseok’s small voice.

“Okay, not scared.”

It took a bit of strength for Namjoon to hold in his snigger. Alright, he was sorry for scaring Hoseok like that, but seriously this scenario was the most amount of fun he’d had in some time. He let Hoseok be, simply laying a firm hand on Hoseok’s shoulder until the older could release his face from his palms.

“I wasn’t scared.” Was the first sentence that came from Hoseok as he straightened up, with a rather emotionless face.


“I was watching a scary movie, and this reminded me of it.”


“I was just a little bit spooked out by the movie, that’s all.”

Namjoon nodded in understanding while humming, being careful to keep his smile small and calm. He watched as Hoseok deflated after his explanations, curling into himself, and couldn’t help but again take Hoseok into his arms.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry for doing that. It was unnecessary.”

“Just for your information,” Hoseok’s voice was muffled against his shoulder, a low grumble, “I’m not a scaredy cat. Just cautious.”

“I can be really scared about nothing too.” Namjoon brought a hand onto Hoseok’s hair. It was soft, fluffy, with unexpected warmth which was so like Hoseok himself.

Then much more to Namjoon’s surprise, Hoseok grabbed onto him, rather like a koala on a tree. There was a weak mumbling, more of Hoseok’s lips against the soft material of Namjoon’s tee. As Namjoon strained his ears, Hoseok had retracted himself out of Namjoon’s embrace, just to grab Namjoon by the arms and look straight into Namjoon’s eyes.

“I said, can I sleep with you tonight? That scary movie I watched this afternoon really spooked me, that’s why I have music blaring in the first place.”

Barely withholding the need to clear his ears, Namjoon stared at Hoseok, the flatmate he’d known for less than two weeks, in shock.

That was how Namjoon explained his hammering heart, threatening to beat itself out of his ribcage.

Did I hear him wrong?

Hoseok must have gotten the message in Namjoon’s look though. He curled back into himself, mouth forming a downwards triangle which immediately made Namjoon want to cuddle the hell out of him, hug him, whatever just to make that sadness go away.

“Yeah, sure, you can come over.”

The words slipped right out of Namjoon’s mouth. His heart skipped a beat as Hoseok latched onto him again, smiling wide that his eight front teeth were showing all too cutely. Namjoon gulped, and for the nth time in his life, questioned his sanity, and his inability to resist cuties.



Ahhhh apologies for missing an update without warning - was really weighed down by work and ugh, got a bit carried away in the weekend... I will be updating on Wednesdays still, but might be updating weekly or biweekly, depending on workload. Just checking, would it be better if I announced on my ig if I am updating, or if just updating is ok? I don't think my ig is that useful most of the time (laughcry

Anyways, hope you all liked the update! As usual, lots of love for moi please!



Chapter Text

If you ask me about that feeling

Naturally, it was a one shot into my eyes

  • Just Dance

Namjoon gulped, and for the nth time in his life, questioned his sanity, and his inability to resist cuties. He woke with the sun shining into his eyes and limbs tangled on his torso.

Ah, that explains the heaviness and the feeling of being unable to breathe in sleep…

Trying to move his arms, Namjoon realised that no, he was unable to disentangle himself. Hoseok’s arms were wrapped around his arms and waist, whereas his legs were somehow in between Namjoon’s.

Namjoon wriggled again, feeling his heartbeat quicken and himself flushing as Hoseok groaned against his neck. Warm puffs of breathe brushed past Namjoon’s neck, making him have goosebumps.

Not the good kind though. At times like this, all Namjoon could think about was morning breathe. And all kinds of yuck that came with someone waking up from a whole night’s sleep.

“Wake up.”

Hoseok grumbled something under his breathe, which Namjoon did not catch. More grumbling, muttering, but still not waking up.

Sighing, Namjoon violently wrenched his right arm. It was more of a desperate move, his arm felt like it was scalded and honestly, the pain might not be worth it, but at least his arm came free.


“I’m giving you one more chance. Wake up, or let go.”

Under the sunlight, Namjoon could see Hoseok’s eyelashes flutter. They fluttered quickly, different from when Hoseok was deeply asleep. Asleep, Hoseok moved barely, only along with deep breathes. Now brought slowly to consciousness, his lashes fluttered like wings, ready to fly.

“Hoseok?” For some reason, Namjoon’s voice was more of a croak. It must be because his throat was raw, and this dryness signalled he needed a drink. “Come on, move...”

“Why… why are you awake… so early…” Hoseok groaned into Namjoon’s pillow, finally loosening Namjoon from his clutches as he moved. “Y-you… wait, what!? What happened?”

“Please don’t make this feel like the morning after a one night stand…” Namjoon felt the need to facepalm. but stopped himself in time. He rolled his eyes, pushing Hoseok to the side as he slid off his bed. “You didn’t want to sleep alone last night - did you forget?”

“Ah… right…”

“And stop muffling yourself into my pillow - I’ll kill you if you leave saliva stains.”

“No I don’t - ”

“Just saying.” Namjoon replied, standing up and going on with his morning routine without a backwards glance.

The morning went past with Hoseok bustling around Namjoon, claiming that no he did not leave any saliva stains, and no, he does not climb people in his sleep.

Oh yeah, and those limbs around me this morning were totally not yours...

The argument went on. Luckily it was a weekend, with no lessons for either of them, and before Namjoon knew it, they were having brunch, and soon dinner together over Netflix. It wasn’t anything special, just pizza delivered to the dorms, a bit of soda, and voila. However, Namjoon found himself laughing more than he’d ever done when watching Netflix.

Which was saying something since they were watching Jessica Jones .

Oh well.

Namjoon munched on a slice of pizza, pineapple and ham, which he saved from Hoseok. Seriously, they even bickered about whether pineapples should go into pizza for a whole fifteen minutes, until Namjoon’s stomach growled in complaint. Eventually, Hoseok gaveup, muttering about himself getting a ‘real pizza’ with ‘loads of meat’ and leaving Namjoon to his ‘weird inclination of pineapple on pizza’. Karma never hit so bad, that once Hoseok snatched himself a slice of Namjoon’s pizza, he just kept wolfing down.

“Stop eating mine - ”

“Here, have some meaty pizza. Come on, I never had pineapple on pizza before - ”


Damn it .

That was how Namjoon started hiding pizza slices. Good thing they were using the pizza box as plates, it meant that while their attention was divided between food and the TV, Namjoon could sneak pizzas into his makeshift plate.

The fighting was full blown on screen. Crashing, thudding, shouting sounds thundered off the cheap microphones Namjoon bought for dormitory life, and Namjoon sunk into his couch, feeling really satisfied with his life right now. Mindlessly, he picked another slice from his plate, savouring the nice sweet tang of pineapple on his tongue. Biting in, he munched, leaving the part with the most pineapple uneaten. Afterall, good things should last until the end, Namjoon mused to himself.

That was Namjoon’s logic until he found Hoseok staring at him with dark eyes.

… Is he going to steal my pizza?

The fight was still going on, the TV shining multicoloured lights on Hoseok’s face. Hoseok stared, unflinchingly as Namjoon raised his brows at him in question.

Namjoon was honestly a little intimidated by Hoseok. Sure, they were flatmates, they talked quite often over meals in the kitchen, they could spend time chilling like this and have fun. Namjoon had even asked around his peers, getting to know second-hand how Hoseok was in the eyes of others. But this, having Jung Hoseok stare at him so deeply, made Namjoon’s stomach go in sommersaults.

And the longer Hoseok stared, the more dry Namjoon’s mouth became. They stayed like that, amongst the sounds of explosions and shooting and screaming, Hoseok staring at Namjoon and Namjoon, Namjoon trying not to just sink into his couch and hide his face in his palms.

“May I?” Hoseok suddenly asked.

Namjoon tried his damnedest to look right into Hoseok’s eyes as he licked his dry lips and hoped his voice was nonchalant. Well, nonchalant was what Namjoon should aim for, but he would be really happy if his voice just didn’t croak. And if his heart didn't skip unhealthily. “W-What? I ain’t giving you pizza from my plate, you - ”

Before Namjoon could finish his sentence, Jung Hoseok, dancer extraordinaire, sunshine boy, perfect smile Jung Hoseok, was kissing the daylights out of him.

It was dirty. A little slobbery, but that was expected from a full on tongue-battle. Hoseok kissed like he meant it, and he damn well meant it as his teeth clacked against Namjoon’s. And ugh, Hoseok’s tongue danced like it had a mind of its own, doing things Namjoon never imagined, travelling to the roof of his mouth, his throat, and back again like some explorer. Apart from their mouths, they weren’t even touching. Not even their feet, not even their hands.

Yet Namjoon could already feel the scent, the heavy weight of Hoseok all over him. And it was enticing, that the scent of the other just clouded his whole mind until his brain, his heart, his very being was screaming for him.



Yeahhhhhh finally managed to update lol... Nearly thought I couldn't make it this week. Again, lots of love and support would be really, really encouraging xx. Thank you for all the concern - I'm alright, just busy. And it's really nothing bad (luckily), and no accident happened nor anything else - it was just the usual work increasing and me being (sadly) unable to cope with the workload at the moment. No worries - I'm alright. Love you all, and thanks for asking after me!


Chapter Text

The place where you are

Maybe that’s Mi Casa

  • Home

And it was enticing, that the scent of the other just clouded his whole mind until his brain, his heart, his very being was screaming for him.

Namjoon read, eyes scanning over the words again and again, his brain whirring as he tried to process the words. He was surfing the internet, having been stuck on a few lines of lyrics for days now. Sometimes he envied Yoongi so bad, having no idea how the older could keep on producing one song per day like he was programmed to do so or something.

On second thoughts, perhaps Yoongi really was a robot - the older could skip meals as if he lived on with music alone, he could write song after song and beat after beat so steadily that it could drive any producer to shame…

“I thought you were working on a track?”

The suddenness of Jin’s voice right by Namjoon’s ear had the younger giving a low shout of surprise. As Namjoon turned around, the abruptness of the motion had his earphones unplugged and himself falling out of his chair.

That is, if Jin had not caught him.

“Whoa whoa, no need to be that shocked? I’m quite sure I did knock, you know.”

“Ah sorry,” Namjoon sheepishly untangled his earphones from his hands and tugged it right off his head, “Must’ve been too immersed.”

Jin laughed, hands lifting Namjoon straight up with strength that sometimes scared the hell out of the younger. Honestly, if Jin was in his usual attire of shirts and slacks or jeans, he looked lean and borderline frail. However, under all that cloth is muscle, muscle that was well formed.

Which was so damn hot.

Namjoon allowed himself to be lifted onto his feet, and Jin was fussing over him, talking about how he should move around more and avoid sitting all of the time since that’s not good for his health. Nodding along with Jin’s murmuring, Namjoon watched as the older fluffed the cushion on his chair, fixed the stationary that laid awry around his work area, and then took a cup of warm water which was on a cabinet on the side to shove into Namjoon’s hands.

“... When was there a cup there?”

“Since I came in and put it there.” Jin shrugged. “Come on, drink up before you dehydrate - I don’t want a dried up human as a boyfriend.”

Unable to help it, Namjoon chuckled as he sipped. “Oh no problem, you still have one more.”

“One who’s drowning himself in coffee? Oh please, you’re both just as bad as the other when you’re so deep in work.” Scoffing, Jin pushed Namjoon’s arm, succeeding in splashing a little of the water down Namjoon’s front as the younger is forced to finish the rest in a difficult gulp.

Coughing, Namjoon swore that Jin was smirking as he had to take off his tee and change into a new one. Thankfully he did keep a few pieces of clothing around his work area, in case accidents like this happened. And while he was tugging a clean tee over his head, he heard Jin hum. The exact melody of the song he was writing.

“When did you start learning to read music?” He asked as he shoved his head out, fixing the ends of his tee into his jeans.

Jin’s eyes were twinkling cutely. “When you were so enthusiastic talking about your first piece of music that got accepted by that records company.”

The answer brought great warmth to Namjoon’s insides, and he felt his heart being squeezed, the nice kind of squeeze that made one runny and melting inside. He wrapped Jin into his embrace, smoothing his hands over Jin’s wide back and burrowing himself into Jin’s arms in return.

“Now, you were working on a track? I thought I saw you reading webpages though?”

“I’m writing about love.” Namjoon muttered into Jin’s chest, unwilling to leave.

The older’s chest vibrated as he hummed, “And you are looking at what, posts of other people talking about relationship advice?”

Namjoon was so sure his face flamed. Thankfully he was fully burrowed into Jin’s arms that the older couldn’t possibly see that he was flushing.

“I want to talk about a more unique type of love.” He admitted.

To his surprise, Jin’s arms tightened around him with that. The older’s chin came to land on Namjoon’s shoulder softly, and his hair tickled Namjoon’s neck as their cheeks brushed.

“Love…” Jin trailed off, as if in thought. For a moment Namjoon wished he could see Jin’s face, but quickly decided that this embrace was too warm to let go of. “Love is different for everyone no? There’s the you’re the Juliet to my Romeo kind, the Bonnie to my Clyde kind, the Cleopatra to my Anthony kind…”

“True,” Namjoon allowed his palms to slip into the back pockets of Jin’s jeans, “But why are you raising examples of couples who all died for love?”

Jin made a short sound and fell silent. They stood there, wrapped around each other in standing position. All that was left were the soft sounds of breathing, the rise and fall of chest against chest, and they stayed like that until Namjoon took a step backwards and seated himself.

With a little ‘oof’, Jin landed onto Namjoon’s lap, but still the both of them did not let go of each other. Instead, they both leant back until they were face to face, and found identical smiles on both their faces.

“I see you did take after my interest in literature?” Namjoon pecked Jin on the cheek.

The older took the chance to knock him over the head with a knuckle. It didn’t hurt per say, more of a reminder that Namjoon was being cheeky, but Jin was grinning wide.

The weather was cooler outside. The windows were half-closed, the breeze from outside barely lifting the curtains. However, light still filtered through the filmsy curtains, falling on Jin’s face with a gentle caress.

Automatically, Namjoon’s hand came to rest on the junction of Jin’s face and neck, where the spots of light fell upon. The feeling of soft skin, the low, resuming humming of Jin, and the sensation that was simply there, had the kind of lull to it. It was warmth, a sinking feeling that was good.

It was like home.


“This is love, no?” Jin said after a while, inbetween his humming.

The question woke Namjoon from his drowsy state, and the younger suddenly knew. It was an inspirational spark, a flame that flared from just the four alphabets.


Or maybe L-O-V-E.

To be honest, the simple alphabets can be so different, yet sometimes so similar. So related, so mingled within each other that it could be unknown that where one ended and the other started.

At least, it was like this for Namjoon. This time, this scene, Namjoon could almost feel the whole world in his hands.

And as Yoongi poked his head in with a cup of coffee in his hands, Namjoon giggled, stretching his hand out. Yoongi took it with no hesitation, and fingers tangled tightly.



Yes, the bunch of numbers was the melody of Mi Casa - just saying.

I'm back, and barely able to updated ehehe. Hope you all enjoyed this new update, it brought warmth to me when I wrote it, so I hope you all get the same fuzzy feelings too :D

As usual, kudos and comments would be really supportive! I'd be really encouraged with love!



Chapter Text

It’s already been a while since the dice were rolled

If you dawdle, you’ll be swept away

  • So What

Fingers tangled tightly, and honestly, Namjoon could stay like that for days. Well, he could say months, but that would be quite impossible as you see, Namjoon needed both his hands for making music with his keyboard. Yoongi did too, so double the impossible - maybe they could only stay with their hands tangled for a few hours at most, since Min Yoongi was a notorious hard worker who could possibly become sick if he stayed away from his music for too long.

However, Namjoon was perfectly content at the moment. Here he was, hand in Yoongi’s as the older leant over him from the cosy spare chair Namjoon had kept in his room, and Jin had helped himself take a seat on Namjoon’s lap.

Yep, definitely not complaining .

Namjoon mused to himself how lucky he was once again, taking in the flowery soapy smell mixed with a tint of bitter that should be coffee, which was so very Jin. Or that was the cup of coffee Yoongi took into the room. Anyways, talking about coffee - 

“Yoongi-hyung, I think my shift should be in…?”

“Ten minutes. I don’t have anything, do you want to swap or - ”

“No no no, I’m going down to do my shift. Would you look at the piece and mark down possible changes?” 

Namjoon waved that away as Jin huffed something about workaholics under his breath. The two younger ones pretended they didn’t hear that though, with Yoongi taking over the mouse and tapping away immediately, and Namjoon pressing a little smooch-and-nip onto Jin’s neck.

“Ow, you got something about my beautiful neck?” Jin stood up in mock anger, grinning as his arms folded in front of his chest.

Namjoon raised his hands in surrender, “No, I only got a thing about a certain Kim Seokjin and a Min Yoongi. Ever heard of them?”

Then there was that lovely laugh from Jin, coupled by a smack on the arm from Yoongi that sent Namjoon out of the room.

Humming to himself in satisfaction, Namjoon was undoubtedly in a good mood as he travelled down the flight of stairs. He fixed his hair in the mirror, fluffing strands that had been sticking out weirdly due to him putting on headphones while working on music, then swung the door open, fully prepared to smell the blast of coffee, tea and bread as always.

As expected, the aroma of food hit him strong. What was not expected, was a certain someone sitting at the bar table, sipping slowly on a glass of - was that juice?

“Namjoon-hyung, this dude here says he’s come to find you?” The barrista on duty looked up and with an expression of a man finally saved, waved franctically at Namjoon.

For once in his life, Kim Namjoon wondered if he’d made a mistake in choosing to put his cafe in an overly populated city. Or if the neighbourhood was crowded. Or for some reason life just likes to find a way to fuck him up in more ways than one.

“...Namjoon-hyung,” The guy at the table greeted him gingerly, one hand gripping his glass, “Sorry, did I come at a wrong timing?”

“No, no, just that I’ve been seeing a lot of people whom I haven’t seen in a while,” Namjoon replied, making his way over and taking a seat, “These days you rarely bump into anyone on the streets, but I seem to have a lot of old… acquaintances over in my cafe recently.”

Timid laughter paired with eyes wide, Namjoon was thinking this one hadn’t changed a bit before the cafe doors were flung open. In walked Taehyung, hands in his pockets and striding over in the air of a man with purpose.

And then to Namjoon’s surprise, he went straight up to them, bent and pressed a kiss right onto the knuckles of a certain man.

Which was Jeon Jungkook.


Namjoon stared at them, brain struggling to register what had happened.

Kim Taehyung. Jeon Jungkook.

Kiss .

“Uh, hyung?”


“What exactly - ”

Three voices overlapped in a chorus.

Staring at the two of them, Namjoon had a thousand words on his lips, starting with the usual whats and hows. The sound of glass clinking on hard wood snapped Namjoon back to the two faces, staring right back at him like he had grown a second head or something.

“Ahem, did I miss anything?”

“Uh, n- no?” Jungkook’s head whipped around to come face to face with Jin, who leant over the counter top casually.

 Visibly swallowing, Jungkook took a step back as Jin leant further forward, and as poor Jungkook stumbled, Namjoon swore it was because Jin winked. Of course, Jin was totally happy at Jungkook’s deer-in-the-headlights expression. He picked up the glass on the counter again, rubbing at imaginary specks on it with a towel in hand.

“So, why all the wide-eye looks?”

Namjoon let his eyes dart between Jungkook and Taehyung, trying to read them but with no avail so he could only ask. “So, you two are… together?”

Those two shared a glance, and then to Namjoon’s shock, Taehyung shook his head and Jungkook nodded.

And silence settled in between the four of them.

“You know what? This is too awkward.” Jin finally broke the silence as he put down the clean glass once again, with a flick of his hands he opened a cabinet, cleared enough space and put the glass in. “I’m gonna go back up Namjoon, just… try to sort this out. If you need me you know where to go.”


Before Namjoon could ask why Jin had come down specifically to wipe down a glass and leave, the older had already turned and walked briskly off. The door to their upstairs apartment swung close behind Jin, and Namjoon could only sigh.

“W- who is that?” Jungkook asked.

Taehyung answered quickly. “Jin-hyung, who is living with Namjoon-hyung.”

“A- ah.”

Then quietness once more. Namjoon sat there, watching Jungkook and Taehyung sip their drinks until they finished, unsure of what they were here for. His thoughts wandered, to the customers’ idle chats, the noise of people coming in and out of the cafe, the regular clink and clank of the bar and kitchen…

“-Joon-hyung? Namjoon-hyung?”

Almost falling off his chair, Namjoon had the hell smacked out of his shoulder as Jungkook hit him a few times too much. Luckily for him, Jungkook caught him as he slid out of his seat. Unlucky for him, he almost had his nose broken against Jungkook’s unbelievably hard chest muscles.

Damn Jeon Jungkook and his ridiculous muscles.

But Namjoon didn’t even have time to vocalise his thoughts and his pain. Jeon Jungkook, with one hand on Namjoon’s waist and another on his back, had leant forward.

And went immediately to kiss Kim Namjoon right on the lips.



Yeah I'm back. Sorry, stuff is happening in real life - it's like quite a choice in life so I'm happy the choice has been made and all I have to do now is work hard - and I did sneak myself a little vacation haha. So yeah, I'll start regularly updating again, no worries! Gosh I've missed writing...

As usual, kudos and comments would be very much appreciated! I need love to power me on :DDD

Chapter Text

The world was too big and I was small

Now I can’t even imagine now

  • Begin

To kiss Kim Namjoon right on the lips should not be anyone’s goal, especially at a science technology fair.

And to be honest, Namjoon was not looking to kiss anyone while working as a volunteer at said fair either. But sitting at a cafe amongst whistles of a few of the guys he’d come to bond with over the fair, he was pressed against the table, having the living daylights kissed out of him by a participant that he’d only known for two days.

“I’m pretty sure I’m doing something… illegal,” Namjoon pointed out as Jeon Jungkook’s lips left his, “Remind me how old you are again?”

“Eighteen - I’m not that young.” Jeon Jungkook gave him a hard stare in return, frowning as he sipped his coffee.

Namjoon couldn’t see the point to argue aloud, but he perfectly knew that Jungkook was too young. There it was, that little grimace from the younger as he sipped his black coffee.

How could anyone be old enough if they are unable to take their coffee black?

“Oh you guys, you could get a room.” One of the volunteers piped up from his bread, laughing as if he said something ultimately hilarious.

The other three on their table laughed meekly, yet kept their mouths shut as Jungkook abruptly stood up. His chair screeched against the floor in a loud noise, and he dragged Namjoon out of the cafe with him.

“W-Where are we going?”

“Somewhere. Back to the hotel?”

Namjoon didn’t have a chance to say anything. They turned the corner, and there was the hotel which they were supposed to be living in throughout the fair, which would last for a week. Jungkook all but dragged Namjoon with him in a firm grip, pulling him towards the hotel lobby and into a lift, pressing a button and then the ‘close’ button multiple times with more strength than necessary.

That had Namjoon’s heart pounding. From the sudden kiss, the quick run-like movement to the hotel, or the way Jungkook was acting, Namjoon didn’t know. He just knew that his mind was blank as the lift shot up, upwards as numbers jumped on the little panel above the buttons, and then there was the soft ‘ding’ sound as the lift came to a stop.

“Come on.” Jungkook urged. His strong fingers wrapped around Namjoon’s wrist a little tighter, and they were out of the lift. “Let’s go to mine.”

What am I doing? Namjoon asked himself as Jungkook slid his card over the lock of a door and threw it open.

Too late. They stumbled in, Namjoon resisting for a moment but painfully overpowered. Perhaps Jungkook didn’t even throw in his entire strength, but there they were, the younger pressing the older onto the bed.

At least he wasn’t pushing Namjoon onto the bed, but just sitting on the bed. Namjoon sat there, straightening his back and attempting to look real mature. He gulped as Jungkook stared straight into his eyes, and curled back into himself.


“I like you.”

The straightforward answer had Namjoon’s words stuck in his throat. How much honesty do youngsters have nowadays? Why was Jungkook so blase about the whole thing?

And they just kissed! In front of over three people!

“We just met.”

“And I’ve liked you since I first saw you.”

Namjoon fought down a hiccup that was rising from his anxiety. 

“I’m way older than you.”

“Four years at most - I’ve asked around. You’re a 93-er, it’s okay.”

The hiccup was rising bad. Namjoon swallowed in difficulty, trying not to curl up more into himself than he already did.

“You don’t even live in this city - ”

“Distance is never a problem with all the technology these days.”

It was hilarious, if it were not for the dire emergency Namjoon was in. Technology was the point of the whole fair that was going on, and everyone participating knew how technology was good and cool and convenient nowadays that people miles away can come into contact with a simple press of a button.

But that was not the point.

Namjoon was a senior volunteer. There were volunteering ethics, morals, rules to abide to, he’d read through the booklet for volunteers. None really wrote about dating or anything, just basic law stuff and keeping out of trouble guides, but this - 

This is something he’d not imagined while signing up.

“The moment you picked me up at the airport - when we talked, I knew I’d like you. It feels like, feels like a pang. I knew I was going to like you, and for me, two days are enough for me to confirm that I like you.”

Namjoon couldn’t say anything. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like like Jungkook. Nice look, good body, cute personality, Jungkook was something to behold. He’d seen participants fawning over the younger, even fellow volunteers, all loitering around Jungkook’s stall at the fair, trying to talk to him and squealing nonsense every so often.

“I shouldn’t.” Namjoon stated, and that should have been enough. It was what he’d been telling himself throughout the two days, and it took all his sanity to not give in completely when Jungkook kissed him out of nowhere. “I know - but I shouldn’t.”

“What’s it with you being unwilling to give this a try?” Jungkook asked, a hint of exasperation leaking into his voice as he spoke, “We can always try it out - unless I’m not good enough? Hyung?”

“No! You’re a really nice person - goodlooking, cute, really bright, anyone who got to know you would say the same! You know how many people in the fair are interested in you!” Snapped Namjoon. 


He took hold of himself after the outburst, but it was too late. Jungkook was grinning at him, his bunny teeth fully showing and glinting in the hotel lights.

“So?” The younger prompted.

Sighing in defeat Namjoon buried his face in his hands.

Why would this happen to him, of all people?



Another chapter! Term is almost starting so I'm a little piled up - no worries though, I'll keep updating until this piece ends! Did all of you have a good summer? I hope you all had time to rest and pick yourselves up a bit <3

This chapter should be a cute and sweet one? As usual, comments and kudos will propel me to write :D Come douse me with love ahahahaha



Chapter Text

But I didn’t know that would be the last

You say don’t leave like this

  • First Love

Why would this happen to him, of all people?

Namjoon pushed Jungkook aside, but there was Yoongi right beside them, arms crossed and gaze steely.

“Yoon - ”

“Didn’t think you’d do this.” Yoongi said, then turned directly to face Kim Taehyung. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“T- this is Jeon Jungkook, my…”

“Leave it. I don’t want explanations anyway.”

As he said that, Yoongi stormed away, flinging the doors to their living quarters with a bang. Without second thought, Namjoon sprang to his feet, running after him. Sprinting up the stairs, Namjoon saw Yoongi disappear into his room. The door shut quickly and the sound of a lock turning was defeaning.

Knock? Attempt to talk through the door? Or...?

“... What happened?” Jin stepped out of his room frowning. A loud noise could be heard from Yoongi’s room, a crash that shocked both of them. “Yoongi is… pissed?”

“That’s more like an understatement,” Namjoon replied, rubbing his face in hope that the growing frustration would die down, “He - Kim Taehyung brought someone, called Jeon Jungkook, and he - ”

Before Namjoon could finish his sentence, Yoongi’s door flung open. Hair messed up and eyes wild, Yoongi motioned towards Jin.

“Uh, me?” Jin pointed to himself, blinking profusely.

“Yes, in.”

The eldest shuffled in and Namjoon could only watch as the door shut firmly behind Jin.

The fuck… Of anyone Taehyung had to be involved with, it had to be Jeon Jungkook. Of everything that could’ve happened, Jungkook chose to kiss him. Of all the people who could’ve seen the kiss, it had to be Yoongi…

The mess of the day replayed in Namjoon’s mind. His head hurt. He tried to listen in, perking his ears for any kind of sound that might come from Yoongi’s room. Sadly, it seemed that the walls were really insulating sound - he bet Yoongi and Jin would be talking, perhaps in a shouting row even, but here he was, outside the room, hearing nothing of the two loves of his life. He could have no idea of what could be going on inside.

What’s happening? Will they… They won’t fight? Scream at each other? Scream about what had happened? Blame Namjoon for what happened?

At that thought, Namjoon’s breathing became difficult and the world before him seemed to turn. Holding himself up with the wall, Namjoon willed himself to walk and staggered back into his own room. It was dark, his curtains drawn, his computer blinking as he didn’t switch it off. He couldn’t care less. Flopping onto his bed, he drew the sheets over himself and willed himself to sleep.

Think less. No, don’t think at all.

Picturing an eraser over a board in his head, Namjoon willed himself to picture darkness. And only darkness.

Sink. Sink deep. Sleep.

Eyelashes fluttered.

No, don’t move. Sleep.

There was an itch somewhere near Namjoon’s scalp. He could feel his fingers twitching, wanting to reach for it and get rid of the annoyance.

No. No no no, sleep.

Somewhere outside, there was the sound of some door opening and closing. Namjoon waited with stilled breath, hoping…

What was he hoping for anyway? Could he tell himself that Yoongi, and Jin as Yoongi would’ve told Jin everything, would not blame Namjoon at all?

There was the sound of a door shutting again.

Namjoon slowly breathed. And held it as he heard something creak. Was it someone moving? Stepping around? It felt that the air was sucked out of the room all of a sudden, that all sorts of thoughts starting popping up in his mind again.

More creaks. Definitely steps.

For a moment Namjoon wondered if he should simply get up and poke his head out of the room. Perhaps a toe out of his room. But on second thoughts, he burrowed himself into his blanket, stuffing himself into the warmth that was not at all comforting at the moment.

“... no…”

Yoongi’s voice came from beyond the thickness of the blanket. Namjoon drew it closer to himself, inching his head up. A sense of foreboding grew, and somehow, Namjoon had the feeling that everything was fucked.

What felt worse was, he felt that he himself had it coming.

“... you sure?”

Jin’s voice was muffled, only the last words were clear. It rang through the quietness of the room, and Namjoon waited with baited breath.

More noises, and then a door opening and shutting again. Footsteps moving around the corridor, shuffling, and then -


Namjoon perked his ears. Nothing? That didn’t feel right. He raised himself up, bit by bit as if moving would disturb the empty nothingness that he felt was in the room. The atmosphere was disturbingly heavy, and all Namjoon could do was to bring himself to get up, toe his slippers on, and slip his door open.

The corridor was empty. The lights were off. Namjoon shuffled out, trying to hear anything. Nothing.

Moving out into the open area, he eyed the closed doors of the rooms belonging to Yoongi and Jin. He had the need to stick his ears to the doors, just to catch whatever they were doing, yet…

He stopped in his tracks.

The kitchen lights were open. The door to the kitchen was ajar, and light flooded out to illuminate the area that led to the hallway-like space, also the door leading out of the living quarters.

Stepping up to the kitchen counter, Namjoon found his cup filled with tea. It was still steaming, and there was a note attached to it. Namjoon picked it up, noting the nice handwriting of Jin on it, scribbling his name, then he flipped the note over.

Joon - I’m sorry.

The wooden floorboards below soaked up the rest of the tea, and a dull thud of the cup falling echoed in the silent room.



Update! Thanks for all the love for this fic - no worries, stuff is going to get better! This fic is getting longer than I imagined honestly, and if you all noticed, not everyone's shown up yet. They're coming. I Promise. And things are gonna go... well? Crazy? Guess :D

As usual, kudos and comments! Show love to me <33






Ah had been venting before the edit but decided to take it out just in case some of the fans of that team happened to be an ARMY. I just felt... more angry than I imagined, because it showed a very ugly side of what could happen on the Internet. Anyways, the main message is, this world would do with a little bit more love from everyone. Spread love, not hate. As ARMYs, you might see a lot of hate and comments that hurt etc etc. Don't spread more hate, even if you experience hate. Keep yourselves sane and safe, be reasonable and open, and if things are disastrous, there are a lot of options out there to deal with problems. Don't take insults to heart - those strangers have nothing on you - and in perceiving real danger, you all be careful and know how to warn the parties involved. If all of us were a little bit more mindful of words and acts, the world will be a better place.

That's it, logging out now and going on to my next chap. Love you all!

PS. I'm a lot less emotional now :P No worries, the angst in this fic is all planned anyway - I'll try to convey the angst and pain across mwahahahaha