Namjoon was nervous. He hadn’t exactly thought it all the way through when he decided to run away from home and enroll in The Academy. Shit, he didn’t think at all really. His parents are probably worried sick right about now―oh god how could he leave without saying goodbye to his parents―Namjoon didn’t even eat dinner with them.
Namjoon always dreamed about becoming a meister, he wanted to travel through all the kingdoms and be able to help the people he came across. He didn’t want to get stuck protecting a corrupt throne―just like his parents―he wanted to see the world and experience everything it had to offer. His parents didn’t agree with his decisions and they often got into arguments about it, so Namjoon decided to put in an application to The Academy and well here he is.
Namjoon felt like a needle in a haystack―quite literally with his silver hair―there was so much happening around him. The Academy was beautiful, just like the pictures in the paper―but this was ten times better. It was a castle, just as big as the ones in the kingdoms surrounding it. It was hard to pay attention to just one thing, everything was just so amazing. Warm earthy tones colored the walls making it feel so much like home, highwalls to accommodate all the different species that lived here, cool crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceilings and the big clear windows, made everything feel open and carefree. It was such a nice change from Namjoon’s home inside the Etilaldan palace. That place was so cold and lifeless compared to what he was seeing now.
Yeah it was beautiful, but it was so fucking busy.
The hall they’d put him and all the other students enrolling in was chaotic. Every year all the new students were shoved into a room―meisters and weapons―and told to mingle with each other, but that’s not really what happens. The students that classify as weapons are given a list with the names of each meister and the meisters in turn wear the number their name appears under on the list. People called it the choosing ceremony, because you don’t pick your weapon. Your weapon chooses you, and Namjoon being one of the first people to arrive still hadn’t been picked.
So Yeah. He’s nervous.
Maybe he hadn’t been picked yet because of how he looked―because Namjoon knew he was highly qualified if not the best person here―he thought it would help if he sat down, he was really tall, and most weapons were short so maybe if he hunched in on himself to seem smaller, they wouldn’t see him as a threat. Or maybe it was his hair? Hair dye was a luxury. What if they thought he was some pompous asshole that liked to gather multiple weapons for fun―the hair dye had been a gift from his mother―because he wasn’t.
It was excruciating to sit here and wait for someone to choose him, Namjoon was used to being picked first. He was an incredibly gifted child coming from a long line of strong meisters, all of his accomplishments were listed right under his name. So why hadn’t he been chosen yet?
With a resigned sigh, Namjoon put his head down on the table. Might as well get some rest since it doesn’t look like he’ll be leaving anytime soon. Around him the area bustled with life and excitement, something he couldn’t wait to be a part of.
Namjoon could feel someone insistently tapping him on his shoulder. Somewhere in the back of his mind he acknowledged the fact that he indeed had fallen asleep, at one of the most important functions of his career.
Opening his eyes Namjoon visibly startled, not expecting a face to be so close to his own. He only barely managed not to fall out of his seat. In front of him was a boy. No, a man. The man was terrifyingly beautiful. With his messy black hair falling into his eyes, those high cheekbones, his pretty sculpted nose, and those heart shaped lips stretched over those killer canines.
Namjoon had seen plenty of pretty people while he spent his days living in a castle, but none of them compared to the face he was seeing now.
Those sharp brown eyes stared at him expectantly, more than likely waiting for Namjoon to speak.
“O-Oh um hello?” Namjoon said, the sentence coming out as a question.
The black-haired man perked up at his words, “Has anyone ever told you, you sleep like the dead?” he laughed. Taking a seat at the big brown table right next to Namjoon.
Namjoon blushed as he stammered over his words, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep I just got tired of waiting―not that I’m being impatient, or anything it’s just a lot of sitting around and doing nothing and―” Namjoon trailed off as the man interrupted him.
“I’m not here to bust your balls about sleeping, little hatchling so take it easy. Yeah?” The man grinned. “You’re the only interesting meister here, so I thought we ought’a have a chat. Only if you want to of course.”
This lovely man wanted to talk to him? He thinks he’s interesting?
“I’d love to!” Namjoon says, probably a little too loudly by the way other people turn around to stare at him. He clears his throat and says a little quieter, a little shy, “Uh- I mean, it’s nice to meet you I’m Namjoon.”
“Hoseok, and I assure you Namjoon the pleasure is all mine.” He smiles, watching as Namjoon’s face gets redder with every word.
Namjoon doesn’t know how to function in front of Hoseok, his smile is so cute and that black shirt he’s wearing does nothing to hide those muscles lurking underneath. Namjoon is so so gay.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts Namjoon turns towards Hoseok, “So what did you want to talk about exactly?” He questioned, because what does this hunk of man want to do with Namjoon, honestly.
“I want you to be my meister.” He says seriously.
Hoseok wants HIM to be his meister? Oh this is fine.
“Me? You want me to be your meister?” Namjoon says incredulously, searching for Hoseok’s eyes.
“You are the only one I believe is skilled enough to handle a weapon like me. I think we’d make a great team.” He says, holding eye contact, completely serious.
Namjoon laughs nervously, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants before reaching a hand out, “I’d really like that, Hoseok.” He smiles, freezing in place when Hoseok boycotts his handshake in place of a hug. “Handshakes are for strangers, hatchling. I promise I don’t bite.” He says, squeezing Namjoon in his arms.
Namjoon realizes when a shiver crawls up his spine that maybe he wants Hoseok to bite.
This is going to be hell, Namjoon thinks as they finalize the papers needed for their enrollment and head to their room. Yes. Their room. Apparently, it’s a new rule that weapon and meister must share the same room, to create a more authentic bond with each other.
Namjoon thinks its bullshit. Someone on this earth just wants him to suffer more than he already is. Imagine his surprise when he thought he’d get a break to gather his thoughts in his own room and away from the sheer hotness that is Hoseok, only to find out he’s stuck with the devil himself. And it’s not like Hoseok is oblivious to Namjoon’s internal struggle, he knows. He’s been aggressively flirting with Namjoon since they signed the papers to their dorm. Namjoon isn’t sure his face can get any redder.
But Hoseok aside the room of course is beautiful.
The room looks so open with the ceiling to floor windows, the floors are cherrywood, and the walls are a deep red. There was something about this place and its warm inviting colors, maybe the castle was enchanted? The furniture was simple a bed and a drawer for each person, the same wood as the floors. Thankfully they had their own shower inside their room―Namjoon’s never had to share a bathroom before so he’s very hesitant about it, also the thought of Hoseok shirtless is something Namjoon isn’t ready to think about yet.
The windows gave them a perfect view of the forest surrounding The Academy, various colorful trees scattered across the green lands looking even more majestic with the sunsetting over the leaves pretty colors. Probably home to lots of fairy’s with how peaceful the scenery looked. Namjoon hoped he could go see a fairy if he had time, they were said to bring about good luck and he could sure use all the luck he could get.
Namjoon had hoped that distracting himself with his surroundings Hoseok’s presence might have less of an effect on him, but he was sadly mistaken. Hoseok could fill an entire room with his heavy energy, it had to be magic. Not that it felt bad, on the contrary it felt as if Hoseok’s entire being was doing everything it could to make sure Namjoon felt safe and secure. It was unsettling, they’d just met hours ago. Namjoon wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
Feeling Hoseok step behind him, Namjoon flinched when a hand landed on the window pane right next to his head. Hoseok’s hands sure were pretty.
“I’m gonna go hop in the shower, hatchling. Unpack your things,” Hoseok whispered into Namjoon’s ear, grinning when his ears flushed red, “I won’t be long, pet.” He said as the hand on the window made its way to Namjoon’s waist, studying the dip there before giving it a tight squeeze, pulling away.
Hearing Hoseok walk away to the bathroom, Namjoon scrambled his long legs to the bed, collapsing on the sheets and shoving his silver head into a pillow with a flustered scream. He was going to die. Hoseok was going to kill him and Namjoon would gladly let him. His ear still tickled with the sound of Hoseok’s voice still ringing in his ears playing back, over and over again. His waist was burning from Hoseok’s touch. He touched him. Hoseok touched him.
Curling his tall body into himself Namjoon hid his flaming face in his pillow, the stress of the day washing over him and dragging him to sleep.
Waking up from a nap face to face with a shirtless man unpacking your clothes, sure was nice. Namjoon was sleepy and Hoseok is hot, he really couldn’t be blamed for admiring the view. Well, he could. But he couldn’t bring himself to care, watching as Hoseok folded his clothes delicately before placing them in one of the wooden drawers. Namjoon watched as the muscles in Hoseok’s back contracted with every movement, it was mesmerizing. Namjoon wondered if he could find a way to discreetly ask Hoseok to pick him up, Namjoon was a tall guy but he knew without a doubt Hoseok wouldn’t even break a sweat.
Namjoon sighed shifting his focus to the wall next to his dresser, if only he had that kind of confidence.
“What’s got you sighing like that, hatchling? That doesn’t sound like a good sigh.” Hoseok questioned out the blue, his voice startling Namjoon.
“Ah, it’s nothing for you to worry about really. But thank you, Hoseok.” Namjoon deflects bringing his attention back to Hoseok, the latter has a frown on his face. Namjoon doesn’t like it, Hoseok should be smiling. Always.
“It is something for me to worry about, pet. Communication is key, especially with meister and weapon. If you can’t tell me how you feel right now with just the two of us, how will you lead us during battles?” Hoseok asks, his eyes searching Namjoon’s face. Trying to figure him out.
Hoseok is right, Namjoon thinks.
“I have little issues with confidence. Well, maybe more than a little,” Namjoon admits with a shy laugh, shifting his weight on the sheets around him. He expects Hoseok to coddle him maybe, tell him he’s cute like this, or just something else. He doesn’t expect him to laugh.
Namjoon ears burn red with shame, of course someone as beautiful and perfect as Hoseok would find his issues a laughing stock. How could someone who came from a long family of knights have problems with confidence, with speaking to the public, with voicing his desires. It was unheard of. It was unnatural.
Namjoon felt like an outcast once again.
Namjoon could feel himself tearing up, he didn’t want Hoseok seeing him cry, “I-If you’re just gonna laugh at me, you should go,” He sniffed, hiding his face in the sleeve of his shirt. “Find yourself another meister who will put up with your touchiness.” He mumbled.
The room is quiet for a while, except for Namjoon’s quiet sniffles.
“I didn’t think someone as pretty as you would have any problems being confident.” Hoseok admits bashfully.
Namjoon’s eyes peak over the crook of his shoulder to look at Hoseok. His face is flushed and he’s staring at the open drawer in front of him. Namjoon replays what Hoseok said in his head over again.
“You think I’m pretty?”
“I think you’re stunning.”
“You’re dressed like that and you’re askin’ me why? You sure are somethin’ else, Namjoon.” Hoseok laughs, walking over to sit next to Namjoon on his bed.
Namjoon sputters with embarrassment, his ears a burning red. “These are traditional Etilaldan clothing!”
“Yeah sure, how traditional can they be with yer’ tits out like that?” Hoseok teasingly whispers, leaning in closer, crowding the meister’s space. Its hard to take his eyes off his chest.
“T-Tits?! I don’t have breasts!” Namjoon insists, hands flying up to cover his chest.
Hoseok slowly drags his eyes up from the meister’s now covered chest, to his full lips, that cute nose, finally coming to rest on those kind eyes of his. When Hoseok speaks again its full of suggestions.
“You could’ve fooled me, pet. Are you sure these are traditional Etilaldan men clothing?” He asks, scooting even closer into Namjoon’s space, their thighs touching. The meister’s hands fall limply to his thighs.
Namjoon blushes at the contact.
“They might be traditional women clothing…” He says nervously, biting his lips. Hoseok’s stare is intense.
Namjoon feels so jittery, he’s never had this kind of attention on him before. He likes it.
Hoseok eyes snap down to Namjoon’s plush lips, when he speaks again his voice is different, more gravely and animal like. “You like wearing women’s clothing, hatchling?”
A whine seeps its way out of Namjoon’s throat, making him go red with embarrassment. Hoseok sounds terrifying, and he definitely shouldn’t find it attractive, but he does. Oh god he likes it so much. If Hoseok keeps it up Namjoon’s gonna have a bigger problem on his hands, well in his pants.
“I– They’re comfortable and pretty, okay.” He mumbles, shrinking into himself as the sound of the weapon’s voice drags tauntingly through his ears.
“Look at me pet.”
Namjoon turns slightly to face Hoseok and his intense aura, he’s smiling. Those attractive razor-sharp teeth on display stretched over those cupid lips, it’s so fucking hot. Namjoon can’t help the next whimper that slips out.
The throaty ‘fuck’ that Hoseok sighs makes Namjoon press his thighs together with want. He doesn’t know what he wants but he knows he wants something, wants whatever Hoseok will give him.
“Can I kiss you Namjoon?” Hoseok asks searching Namjoon’s eyes for any signs of unwant.
Hoseok brings his hands up to cradle Namjoon’s face, the meister’s features are so pretty. Namjoon tenses up the closer Hoseok gets, he can’t believe that this man wants to kiss him. When Hoseok’s lips connect with Namjoon’s the meister melts. The kiss isn’t anything but chaste, a cute little peck on the lips. Nothing Namjoon thought it would be, and when Hoseok pulls away lips stretched taught over his teeth cheeks on display with the force of his smile.
Namjoon thinks that this is better.
“Can we cuddle?”
“Of course, baby.”
If this is only the first day, Namjoon is in for one hell of a year.