Work Text:
the first time namjoon finds himself fantasizing about taehyung’s hands it’s almost entirely on accident.
he doesn’t really mean to get so side-tracked from his essay, dimly aware he should really stop allowing every single little distraction to steal his attention away from the embarrassingly empty word document opened on his laptop in front of him, considering he has a rapidly approaching deadline to meet, but—
he can’t help it.
because taehyung’s sitting in front of him at yoongi’s dinner table, flipping absent-mindedly through a graphic novel namjoon remembers recommending to him a couple of months ago during a quiet get-together, looking almost offensively effortlessly pretty as he flips pages with nimble fingers embellished with chunky rings that look like they belong to jimin.
now, here’s the deal: if taehyung was merely pretty, namjoon could deal with it; he’s, after all, a ‘big boy’ (something he can’t think about without hearing it whispered into his ear in seokjin’s playful voice after that one wild night they’ve agreed they don’t talk about and will probably never talk about. ever), and thus he should be able to control his hormones and swallow the urge to press a kiss against taehyung’s pink lips to see if they’re as soft as they look.
no, the problem is that taehyung’s so thoroughly good.
and, well—
it shows.
taehyung positively glows with gentleness, oozes childlike wonder like it’s nobody’s business. he always has a kind word saved for everyone, deals out hugs with an ease that namjoon sometimes envies, wihing he could be as comfortable with skinship as the younger boy. taehying is all soft eyes and inviting smiles, perpetually playful while also being the sort of person who buys cat treats despite not owning a cat just to have something in his pockets to feed every single stray he encounters on the streets. he’s warm, cheerful, enthusiastic, deeply intelligent, and he challenges namjoon in a way nobody else does.
so as if it wasn’t enough, taehyung’s outer gorgeousness is only matched by his inner beauty.
and, therefore, namjoon is deeply fucked.
(now there’s a thought—)
(stop)
(focus)
so, namjoon’s distracted and taehyung is sitting in front of him, offensively beautiful even with his shaggy bangs in dire need of a trim considering they keep brushing against taehyung’s eyelashes every time he looks up and, honestly, namjoon’s just about had it.
curling his fingers into loose fists as if this small gesture will help him fight the urge of brushing taehyung’s hair back and perhaps boop his nose while he’s at it, namjoon swallows and averts his eyes, cementing his resolution of not looking at taehyung’s expressive eyes or the adorable mole on the tip of his nose or — lord save him — his lips.
it’s like this that namjoon meets his demise.
in his valiant efforts of avoiding staring at taehyung’s face altogether, his eyes drift downdowndown and settle on the desk where he’s briefly distracted by the bright colours of the familiar graphic novel before nimble fingers turn the page and namjoon finds his gaze glued to the elegant hand pressing down gently to prevent the novel from closing.
now, namjoon is the first to admit he’s fascinated by and appreciates hands in perhaps more than a purely aesthetical way, and he’s sincere enough to admit to himself he really likes spending time observing and admiring, say, yoongi’s and hoseok’s hands, for example, when they indulge him and allow him to play with their fingers with what they’ve previously described as an endearing mix of childish wonder and the razor-sharp precision of a seasoned surgeon, pressing down on the pads of their fingers and tracing the faint lines that mar their palms, following the veins with the tip of his own index finger and tapping new rhythms onto their bony knuckles.
he considers himself spoiled, in that aspect, because even if they don’t admit it out loud, namjoon’s friends are all soft for him, and practically always allow him to play with their hands.
take seokjin’s, for example; seokjin’s hands are fascinating to him, with the square palms and long, double-jointed fingers that slightly taper inward. he loves seokjin’s prominent knuckles, loves the way the metacarpal bones are sharp enough to emphasize the shape of his palm, loves the way seokjin’s smile lights up his face when namjoon plays with his fingers and softly compliments how neat he keeps his nails.
yoongi’s are the ones he’s most familiar with, the ones he’s held the most and the ones who’ve brought him the most comfort when he feels disconnected from his own body and filled with a sadness he isn’t able of shaking off easily. namjoon has the shape of his blunt and square fingers memorized, can picture perfectly in his mind how yoongi’s rosy knuckles and visible veins look against the pale back of his hand, knows one of the most telling signs of his hyung’s discomfort is when he picks at his cuticles and knows how much a small gesture like interlacing his own fingers with yoongi’s can mean to him.
aesthetically, hoseok’s are namjoon’s favourite, though. easiest the prettiest hands he’s ever seen, he can’t help but feel awed at the sheer elegance his long palm and fingers bring to all of hoseok’s movements. they add even more grace to his already enviable dancer’s poise, and namjoon can’t help but admire the way he moves, his eyes trailing hoseok’s figure wherever he goes. (he can also guarantee that hoseok’s fingers are the best at petting you, but that’s neither here nor there).
since seokjin started dating jimin a few months ago, namjoon has also had the pleasure of cradling both of jimin’s hands in his, absolutely enthralled by the tapered shape of the boy’s fingers and the way his pinky is even shorter, which only emphasizes the smallness of his hands, cleverly disguised by the use of chunky rings and slightly longer nails.
on one of the get-togethers, jimin brought along wide-eyed jeongguk, with strong hands that belie the way the youngest boy’s touch is as gentle as can be, veiny and with visible tendons but pale and well-cared for despite the numerous scars on the knuckles, curtesy of jeongguk’s hands-on (heh) approach to every obstacle he encounters. (namjoon sometimes suspects the youngest is slightly enamoured with his interest in hands, judging by the way he always indulges namjoon and even occasionally allows him to paint his nails, but perhaps namjoon’s wrong and jeongguk is simply that nice to everyone). anyways, jimin brought jeongguk, and jeongguk got adopted into their small family without much fuss except for one (1) complaint from yoongi about having to buy more alcohol every time they hung out, which was quickly retracted when jeongguk smiled shyly and scrunched his nose in a silent apology.
but jimin also brought along taehyung, and for some reason or another, despite them becoming good friends quite easily, namjoon has never looked at taehyung’s hands before today.
and oh—
he’s been missing out.
because taehyung’s hands are a masterpiece, big with relatively short palms and long fingers, visible tendons and healthy nails underneath the chipped nailpolish he likes to wear. taehyung’s hands look warm and pretty and strong and like they would fit perfectly around namjoon’s, palm against palm and fingers squeezing. namjoon wonders if taehyung’s hands feel as soft as they look, if they would be gentle like the boy himself or firm like the way his mouth sometimes tightens up, hinting at taehyung’s annoyance at something.
taehyung’s hands are as stunning as taehyung himself, and namjoon is doomed.
and that’s the way it starts.
⅏
once namjoon is aware of taehyung’s hands and the possibilities they represent, he can’t seem to stop thinking about them.
when they’re all in a room together, namjoon finds himself more often than not daydreaming about holding taehyung’s hand, about playing with his fingers and having those same elegant fingers combing gently through his hair, caressing his cheeks slowly before softly gripping his chin to press a kiss to his lips. he wants to intertwine his own fingers with taehyung’s and take him on long walks, just the two of them together with the moon as their only witness. he wants to squeeze taehyung’s hand in reassurance as he introduces the younger boy to his parents saying this is my boyfriend and i want to make him as happy as he makes me while his mother beams brightly at them and taehyung returning smile is warm enough to melt even the coldest snow.
but his daydreams often stray from safe for work stuff, and namjoon catches himself more than once wondering how those big hands would feel gripping his hips, grabbing at his legs, divots pressed into his flesh where taehyung’s fingers dig into his thighs and a trail of goosebumps appearing wherever he’s touched.
honestly, it’s all fine and dandy until the moment namjoon allows himself to really consider the strength taehyung’s body holds, with his broad shoulders and firm chest, his muscled legs and big hands.
so used to being the tallest when they all hang out together, it’s not often that namjoon gets to feel simply—
small
and somehow, taehyung manages to do just that when the younger boy’s face is relaxed into a blank rbf, a telling sign he’s deep in thought (a facial expression namjoon finds incredibly attractive for some unknown reason, if only for the connotations it brings).
one thing leads to the other and suddenly namjoon’s usual late-night thoughts about being bent over furniture or pressed into his mattress don’t feature a faceless figure anymore. it’s a gradual process, in which during one of his jerk-off sessions the generic male voice he usually imagines whispering sweet filth into the shell of his ear changes pitch into a smooth, familiar baritone namjoon could recognize anywhere, and he comes harder than he has in a long time, one hand between his thighs and the other curled around his hard cock. at first he writes it off as a one-time-thing, his hormones just being confusing (as they tend to be), but when a few days later he suddenly pictures the figure hovering over him having a very specific shade of golden-tan skin speckled with freckles and moles whose position he has somehow memorized (and when did that happen?) he starts to suspect it might be a sign his body and subconscious are aware of something he might not have realized yet.
this suspicion is confirmed when, one night, what falls from his lips as he comes isn’t a single choked moan, but instead a drawn-out version of taehyung’s name, nigh unintelligible because of the way he tries to muffle the sounds he’s making with the back of his hand.
after that, the rest is practically inevitable.
namjoon has always prided himself on his ability to keep his cool in even the most stressful of situations, so normally, when presented with a something as nerve-wracking as a crush, he likes to think he’s able to control himself and the way his body acts around the individual(s) that hold(s) his affections.
(which is untrue).
(he’s just lucky he has surrounded himself with the most oblivious bunch of idiots in existence).
(but then again, they’re his idiots, so it’s okay).
(because there are a few obvious signs that reveal when namjoon feels flustered around someone, and the most telling one is the way his attention isn’t fully on whatever he’s doing — and this translates into a tendency of tripping over air and breaking things unintentionally).
(because namjoon isn’t inherently clumsy, and he doesn’t break stuff as easily as his friends tend to think. when namjoon is focused he’s able to act perfectly normal, just like any other ordinary person. perhaps he’ll never be considered truly ‘graceful’, but he surely isn’t a klutz, despite what his closest friends may assume judging from the way he downright fumbles whenever they’re close to him. they sometimes fondly compare him to a new-born fawn, still unused to his long legs and prone to stumbling around when excited about something).
(little do they know they’re the reason namjoon’s attention isn’t fully on handling his long limbs or controlling the considerable strength they hold, thus appearing somewhat awkward despite being a perfectly-functioning human being when dealing with anyone else).
so far, he’s been perfectly able of hiding the attraction he feels towards the other guys.
so why does it feel different this time? why can he feel his cheeks heating up not only whenever taehyung praises him, but also when the rest tease him gently for certain habits he’s long-since stopped hiding from them? why is he suddenly incapable of disguising how he feels about them, catching himself smiling with too much fondness at seokjin’s and jeongguk’s antics? at yoongi’s soothing words and subtle demand for physical affection? at hoseok’s endearing enthusiasm and jimin’s unstoppable quest for cuddles?
at all of taehyung’s little quirks and interesting questions he tends to ask when they’re sitting thigh-to-thigh on yoongi’s shitty couch?
it’s terrible. absolutely awful. 0/10, would not recommend. ever.
since he became aware of his feelings towards taehyung (and consequently made peace with the way he feels about the rest of his friends), namjoon’s heart has felt like a hummingbird is trapped in his chest, furiously flapping its wings as it attempts to escape.
he’s going to die young due to heart failure, and it’s all their fault.
because they’ve started to notice the change in his behaviour, and they seem to be revelling in it.
their touches linger for longer than they used to, their demands for affection aren’t any longer disguised as jokes, their platonic flirting doesn’t feel platonic anymore, and rare is the day he doesn’t see at least one of them.
and namjoon is confused and feels weirdly hopeful.
he begins to note how their eyes follow his movements as he manoeuvres himself through the room around furniture; he sees how they listen to him with genuine interest when he rambles about this week’s chosen topic of frustration and fascination, where other people roll their eyes and stop listening the third time he stumbles over his words because he has so much to say and doesn’t speak fast enough to properly string sentences together. he’s surprised to find they no longer shy away from touching him, despite the initial impression they might’ve got from him where it seemed like he disliked physical affection when he just didn’t know how to properly ask for it.
so, not really knowing what else to do, namjoon starts tentatively flirting back.
the first time he sits down on seokjin’s lap like it’s the most normal thing to do, he almost blows his cover because he struggles to contain his giggles at the way seokjin’s eyes widen in surprise, jaw dropping slightly so his mouth forms a pretty ‘o’ shape before he’s smiling brightly, looking quite smugly at the others, who are spread out on the remaining sofas and staring in disbelief at the way namjoon seems to fit so snugly on the eldest hyung’s lap.
it only takes a few minutes before taehyung is casually cuddling up to them, head resting on seokjin’s shoulder and legs thrown over namjoon’s thighs.
another few minutes later there’s an honest-to-god puppy-pile in the middle of the living room.
and namjoon couldn’t be happier.
everything’s going to be alright.