Work Header

never settle (chasing down the devil)

Work Text:

9:42 pm – coming off stage, namjoon can feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, the post performance jitters making his fingers shake. however, his digits are nothing short of stabile when he wraps them around the neck of a beer bottle, lifting the cold glass up, to press it to his lips as he drinks, smiling at his friends congratulating him.

 he only has a short while before he’s due outside, into the crowd of roaring fans cheering for him. later on, he’ll say that this is the only way he can feel truly alive.


9:58 pm – yoongi’s tired eyes look at the bleary night sky, worn out pupils mapping out the scattered stars through the crisp of the autumn air. he’s being driven home from the airport, having landed only a dozen minutes ago from china, and even though it was one of the shorter flights he has been on, he’s thoroughly exhausted, his bones aching for a shower and a well deserved good night’s rest.

there’s an event he has gotten an invitation to at nine in the morning tomorrow, so he doubts he’ll get his wishes granted. rounding a corner, the car he’s in stops behind quite a row and yoongi sighs in annoyance. he’s not getting home till eleven at least.


11:26 pm – namjoon’s tipsy, if not drunk and the party he’s at is in its full wake, alcohol and drugs coursing through the mass of warm bodies freely. he’s not sure what exactly he has had to drink, and if the glass donghyuk passed him was spiked with anything, but his limbs feel ablaze.

 running a hand through his blond hair and feeling it’s already damp, his vision flickers only a second and he’s suddenly hyperaware of every person rubbing against him. it’s not like he feels particularly drawn to anyone in the spacious room, but he’ll sacrifice his criteria for a heartbeat to match his own in the deep of the night.


12:45 am – completely unaware of the bass thrumming deeply through the walls of the club halfway across town, yoongi finally gets into bed, letting out a yawn when the back of his head hits his fluffy pillow. even though his rooms has floor length windows, there are heavy curtains blocking any rays of light that might seep in. despite the complete darkness surrounding him, yoongi’s one hundred percent awake, his own breath echoing in his skull as if amplified thousandfold. it’s quiet but slightly cold in yoongi’s room, and he tosses and turns in bed, trying to dull his thoughts enough for his brain to let sleep cocoon him.

after almost an hour, he gives up, getting up and opening the drawer on his cupboard. his eyes are already used to the dark, and even without eyesight, he has grown up in his room, knows every nook and cranny of it, so he shoves an arm into the shadows of the drawer with the precision of someone who has repeated this action many times before.

he focuses his touch on his fingers, feeling and touching until his fingertips graze a small carton box. he takes it out, opens it to pull out a plastic film of pills. he’s supposed to take only half of it, way sooner in the day, but he downs a whole pill with what’s left of the water in the glass on his night stand. after that, it takes less than half an hour for min yoongi to fall into a sedated, dreamless sleep.


1: 22 am – it doesn’t matter that the skin underneath namjoon’s fingertips feels completely unfamiliar and that he barely knows a stuttered out name of the person writhing and panting under him. what matters is the thrill this boy can give him, as namjoon thrusts into him, making the boy hiss out in pleasure. namjoon closes his eyes, he doesn’t really like them loud but it’s alright. he’s drunk and high enough for it to not matter. he’s deserved this, anyway.


9:21 am – yoongi wonders if it’s too obvious he woke up a little more than an hour ago. he’s surrounded by his father’s business associates and his mother’s high class friends. as usual, his parents are nowhere in sight but yoongi has long since used to going to these types of events in their stead. a middle aged woman in a coat so vividly coloured it hurts yoongi’s eyes starts talking to him, about common friends yoongi remembers only vaguely and he habitually replies in what he calls his polite voice, mind already on autopilot. halfway through the conversation, yoongi’s hands start shaking and he has to put them on his lap, underneath the tablecloth, to hide them.


9:40 am – namjoon sits up in bed, woken up by a car horn blaring directly underneath the window. he has no idea where he is, or how he got there and he rubs at his eyes, gaze falling on the naked boy next to him. the only way he can tell his own limbs from the boy’s is because his are heavily inked, with intricate patterns on the whole length of both his arms and he nudges the boy pretty roughly, “hey.” his voice is deep with sleep he was so rudely awoken from and he can already feel his headache coming on, the boy next to him happily ignoring him doesn’t make anything any better so namjoon shoves him harder.

“hey, wake up. where am i?”

the boy in question doesn’t open his eyes but he murmurs out an address a few blocks from namjoon’s usual club. since he’s not in the mood for small talk anyway, namjoon just nods, already getting up to find his clothes, long since discarded on the floor. he gets dressed in silence, mind unpleasantly numb and when he finishes dressing, the boy on the bed looks at him.

“i had fun.”

namjoon chuckles, checking if he still has battery on his phone. seventeen percent, he’s gonna have to save it up.

“’twas good.”

he puts on his leather jacket, probably the priciest thing he owns, shuddering when the cold leather hits his bare, tattooed arms. before he leaves, the boy speaks up again.

“can i see you again?”

namjoon leaves, pretending he didn’t hear him.


10:19 am – yoongi is pretty sure he is running on nothing but an empty stomach and an unhealthy amount of pure caffeine. he’s checking the board in the faculty building on campus, trying to realize which classes he could afford missing. unfortunately, almost all of them are pretty much crucial, since he has stripped his schedule of any classes he thought were unneeded. his days are tiring as it is and yoongi really doesn’t have time to loiter around in class he doesn’t have to take.

realizing his advanced economics class starts in about twenty minutes, yoongi puts his earphones in his ears, running to the nearby bakery to get some sort of sustenance in his belly.

the second he exits the warm shop, his phone rings, interrupting his kendrick song.

“yeah?” he automatically barks out, not even looking at the caller id before picking up. his father’s voice greets him on the other end of the line.


yoongi immediately grips the paper bag harder, unintentionally, his voice getting a gruff edge as he tries to stop it from shaking.


as usual, he gets straight to the point; his father is known for keeping his conversations brief.

“i trust your flight was pleasant. are you in class?”

yoongi stops by a bench, unwrapping his bagel as quietly as possible.

“no, it starts in about ten minutes. i’m on campus right now.”

“ah, right. i’ll arrange a driver to take you to the studio after class. i’ll talk to you soon.”

with that, all yoongi hears is a dead line.


5:03 pm – it’s a bit early in the day for namjoon to cross the threshold of the club he left with that nameless boy just a little bit over half a day ago. however, namjoon just doesn’t feel like going back home, to his shit hole of a flat. instead, he comes to this endearing shithole of a club. unsurprisingly, donghyuk’s at the bar, wiping glasses and putting them under the counter to prepare for the upcoming night.

“back already?” he gives namjoon a smile.

“missed your ugly face, donghyukkie.” namjoon retorts back, with a grin. “gimme something strong.”

donghyuk warns him it’s not even twilight outside but pours quite a bit of jack into the glass that wasn’t in front of namjoon just a few moments ago. even though they haven’t known each other for long, namjoon is fairly certain donghyuk is among his favorites, if not his best friend. there’s some sort of an unspoken bond between the two of them, and shin donghyuk remains the only person on quick dial in namjoon’s phone.

“rough night? where did you even disappear to? i went to serve couple of kids and you were gone.”

namjoon downs the alcohol in one go, grimacing at the sting in the base of his throat before answering.

“took some boy home. didn’t get much sleep last night so i went to get coffee and something to eat and changed, took a shower et cetera. i got some time to lose before you open again.”

donghyuk doesn’t miss a chance to throw an already damp kitchen towel at namjoon with a gruff “heads up”.

“well if you insist, there’s a thousand glasses here and only one of me. be good and i might even let you stay for the party tonight.”


6:20 pm – yoongi has been in the studio for almost fifteen minutes now and he can’t bring himself to open the fallboard. the chair in the middle of the heavily equipped, soundproof room waits for him ominously, reminding him he’s due there ten minutes ago. he puts in his earphones; there’s a new drake mixtape he hasn’t listened to yet and he feels way more in the mood for heavy beats than the piercing notes of his piano.

he slumps down on the mirrored wall, legs bent in front of him, drowning out his thoughts in loud music. a dozen minutes into the mixtape, his stomach growls and he remembers the only thing he had to eat was the pastry this morning. thankfully, he doesn’t have any dinner plans and he’s more than looking forward to going home early for supper, than sleeping.

with lingering thoughts of a well deserved rest, he gets up, rap still blaring through his earphones and he walks over to the massive wooden instrument, sitting down on the chair, turning off the music and putting his fingertips on the keys.


7:33 pm – the party isn’t starting for another hour and a half, yet the club is almost full. it always manages to surprise namjoon, how many young people flock to clubs like this. he often thinks about it, if they’re all here just to have a good time or if they’re here to forget something. more often than not, he concludes it’s a sad mixture of both for most people. it is for him.

rock bottom is a second home to him, not just cause he gets to perform quite a lot there. he can do that at absolutely any other club, but he likes the dim lights and the elevated stage and the view of the skyline in the vip section.

truthfully, namjoon has no idea how a place like this can work in such a fancy, upscale building, since every floor but this hosts offices and uptight bars and the likes. he supposes it’s due to the fact that donghyuk, who really doesn’t look like it at all, is swimming in his family’s money, and soundproofed the entire place to hell and back. there’s probably some bribe shit going on behind the scenes but namjoon isn’t worried, as long as he gets to keep his stage and his view.


8:49 pm – halfway through his practice, yoongi got a message from his father, telling him he has left an envelope for him at the club. yoongi hasn’t really been much in the club owned by his father, located a bit outside the city’s centre, on one of the hills overlooking the city, but he knows his way around it. he’s mostly curious about what his father has left for him, probably an invitation to another event or some other bothersome task.

so here he is, being driven to the outskirts of an elite neighbourhood, zoning out, looking through a window as he listens to music. he has long ago taught drivers not to talk to him; he’s talkative only when it would be frowned upon to be silent and yoongi resents those types of events. but here, in the privacy his family’s money can buy, yoongi can be by himself all he wants.

soon, they arrive to the building, all sleek black corners and shiny windows. as soon as yoongi steps out from the maserati, he can hear the music in between two songs through his earphones. it makes him pause kanye, something he rarely does, to inspect it.

“hey, where’s this coming from?” he asks the driver smoking by the already parked car and all he gets in reply is “a club couple of floors below your father’s.”

albeit he didn’t get much detail, yoongi suspects the club in question is vastly different to the one his father owns and runs, for the rich and mighty middle-aged businessmen like he is. he stares at the strobe lights coming through the windows on one of the floors for a few seconds more before playing his music again, entering the building.


9:02 pm – the party just started but namjoon sees the boy he has been waiting for the entire day walk through the door of the club. he’s surrounded by people but namjoon can clearly see the brown hair framing his face perfectly and the slightly shy posture. the only reason why namjoon spent the previous night with a nameless, faceless boy is because the person namjoon keeps looking at was absent last night.

but he’s here tonight, and namjoon isn’t wasting time.


9:04 pm – yoongi’s here alright. he exits the elevator and steps foot into the corridor, covered with subtle paintings. everything in this club is light on the eyes and smells like luxury. yoongi really dislikes spending time here. but he’s here anyway, walking up to the reception, and stating “min yoongi, father said he left something for me.”


9:04 pm – “seokjin.” namjoon breathes out into the shell of donghyuk’s ear. “he’s here.”

donghyuk nods, “i know,” and goes back to pouring colourful drinks into martini glasses. “i’ve seen him walk by with his friends.”

there’s an unpleasant drumming in the pit of namjoon’s stomach.

“you gotta let me perform.”

donghyuk lifts up half a dozen glasses filled to the brim with fluorescent liquids before turning around to face namjoon.

“absolutely not.” and namjoon can feel himself frowning.

“but, donghyuk, seokjin’s here.”

all donghyuk gives him back is a shrug so namjoon raises his voice slightly.

“you know when i’ll get a chance like this? he’s been here like three weeks ago last time.”

donghyuk stops stirring a drink to glare at namjoon over his shoulder.

“i don’t know if you’ve noticed but i’m in the middle of a fucking happy hour at a party and i don’t have time to cater the needs of namjoon junior. this isn’t an impromptu concert, man. now wash these glasses before i go all jack nicholson in the shining cause god damn i am this fucking close.”

not the one to piss donghyuk off since he knows first hand how awful it is, namjoon does as he’s told. he’s finished washing one batch when donghyuk tells him to cheer up.

“don’t get all emo. sungkyum’s in charge of their table and he heard a few of them say they’ll be here on friday too, and you’re in charge then. now stop gripping my glasses like they’ve done you harm cause if you break one of them, i’m not helping you.”


9:11 pm – envelope in hand, yoongi presses the zeroth floor button in the elevator. curiosity got the best of him while he was waiting for the elevator to reach ten, the number of the floor he was on, and he ripped the manila paper, a small dinner invitation dropping into his hands from the remains of the envelope, along with his father’s note saying “please attend for your mother and me.”

it’s not the first time yoongi has gotten such a request and he is sure it’s definitely not the last so he sighs, gaze skimming over the address and the time and the date. it’s set for this friday, two days from now and he really doesn’t feel like going.

the elevator stops way too soon for it to be on the ground floor and when yoongi looks at the control panel, he sees they’re on the seventh floor.

a couple of girls in revealing outfits enter, chatting happily and namjoon can hear their slurred words even through the music he’s listening to. must be the clubgoers, yoongi concludes, even though he didn’t get a chance to look past them when they entered.

the rest of their ride goes by smoothly and he’s on ground level soon. the second he sees him, his driver puts out his cigarette and starts the car and yoongi’s eyes look at the club’s windows until he can’t see the building anymore, trees blocking his view.


2:24 am – the party is still in full wake and namjoon feels like he might pass out any minute now. he hasn’t gotten a proper rest or a meal for a few days now and all he wants to do is go home and slide underneath the covers on his messy bed and sleep for a few decades.

he somehow manages to find donghyuk, who is still chipper as always, namjoon tags out, giving him back the kitchen towel which was hanging off his shoulder.

“i’m beat, dude. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

donghyuk, in the middle of a phone call, waves him goodbye and gives him a thumbs up, as a sign he understood him. even after a year and a half of frequenting rock bottom, namjoon doesn’t understand why donghyuk just doesn’t hire a bartender instead of slaving more than eight hours there almost every night of the week. it’s obvious that he has more than enough money for it.

however, he doesn’t pry into other’s business. he zips up his jacket, feeling the early october chill cause goosebumps on his arms, even through the leather. he absently thinks he’s gonna have to rummage his closet for sweaters soon.

it takes him about half an hour to get home on foot and namjoon’s yawning by the time he unlocks the front door.

the apartment is just as messy as he left it and namjoon finds solace in the unmade bed and all the junk on his desk top. he shrugs off his jacket, followed by his jeans and his shirt, to warm himself up with a shower. the bathroom is the cleanest part of namjoon’s apartment and he tries to keep it that way, like an unwritten rule that it’s a little safe haven from all the mess in the kitchen and in the bedroom, as well as in the hallway connecting these three rooms.

the stream of water namjoon steps into is more sizzling hot than comfortably warm but it’s what he needs right now. he lets the water hit the nape of his neck as he leans his forehead against the already steamed up tiled wall, breathing out. he always did find the water droplets running down the inked expanse of his skin calming, but tonight, he can’t focus on the drawings on his forearms.

events from today rush into his mind abruptly and he closes his eyes, remembering seokjin’s face, his pretty cheekbones and his full lips.

kim seokjin is someone namjoon has wanted for quite a while and that in itself is really rare. ideally, and usually, namjoon gets whatever, and whoever, he wants fairly quick, but seokjin is the living proof that there is an exception to every rule.

it’s been at least four months since namjoon officially met seokjin and at least seven since he wanted to fuck him. he’s hoping that it’ll be less than two months until he succeeds.

since it’s not the first time this is happening, it doesn’t take long for namjoon’s thoughts to go dirty and before he’s aware of his actions, he’s wrapping a hand around his hardening dick, imagining seokjin’s mouth in place of his palm.

he quite likes the mental image of seokjin on his knees as namjoon fucks his face and it’s exactly that thought that makes namjoon come a little more than five minutes later.

once he regains his breath, he realizes the water is quickly growing cold so he steps out, groaning when he realizes he forgot to actually wash anything. at least he had a shower this morning.

too tired to wait for the water to heat up again, he wipes at his damp hair and dresses himself.

he passes out before his head even hits the pillow.


11:56 am – yoongi’s in class, bored out of his mind, like he’s sure everyone around him is but he’s stuck here, listening to his professor drone on about the history of merchants in medieval europe. not quite sure what he’ll ever use the information learned in this class for, he twists his wrist to check the time. not even noon. his classes last until two and then he’s meeting his mother for lunch.

looking around to see if anyone will notice, and seeing that one girl had the same idea as him, he puts in his earphones, letting the music save him from the boredom of his thursday lessons.


1:34 pm – ‘i literally just woke up. idk if im coming today. see u tomorrow anyway’

namjoon presses send on his phone, rubbing at his eyes and stretching when he sees the small seen mark next to his message. truthfully, he does have more than enough time to get up, eat, get ready and go to donghyuk’s club but he feels like staying home today.

the performance he had two days ago made sure he has just enough money in his pocket and he kind of wants to get ready for tomorrow. it’s not that he’s nervous but he does want to impress seokjin and for some reason, namjoon thinks that won’t be so easy to do.

he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try, though.


3:16 pm – “you’ve rested well?”

“yes, i’ve had the time to.”

“what about classes? are they too hard on you?”

“no, it’s alright.”

yoongi wonders if his mother still has the ability to see through yoongi’s lies but he figures she just ignores it. she was the one who told him that his eyes squint when he lies. she probably forgot, and all these questions are most likely her trying to be polite.

it’s obvious his mother loves him but they’ve both grown alienated from each other; she spends a lot more time with her husband than with her son, but it’s okay, if you ask yoongi. he’s long since grown used to it and he prefers being on his own anyway.

“yoongi yah, tell mother. do you have a girlfriend?”

yoongi smiles, and the action is so unnatural on him. for a brief moment, her face looks like a giddy schoolgirl’s and her eyes sparkle mischievously.

“no, mother, i don’t.”

the smile on her face falters only a little bit, only in the corner of her lips, almost unnoticeable.

“no girls you like in your class?”

“sorry, mother, there aren’t any.”

she puts her hand over his in an assuring matter.

“it’s alright, dear. you’re only twenty, you have more than enough time.”

he really doesn’t have the heart to tell her that it’s not a matter of time.


10:20 pm – namjoon’s old laptop wheezes and coughs but works and namjoon goes through his downloads folder, to find himself a movie to watch. he really regrets not going to the club when he had the chance, since he’s bored out of his fucking mind, but he’d rather swallow his own hand than walk back in there and put up with donghyuk picking on him playfully.

after a few minutes of going back and forth, reading the same titles over and over again, namjoon settles for prometheus, figuring he has more than two hours to kill.


10:37 pm – yoongi exits the small convenience store close to his apartment, drinking a soda. he has told his driver to take the rest of the day off when he drove him to the studio, under the pretence that he’s not going anywhere tonight. it’s not like yoongi lied but his meeting with his mother emotionally drained him and he really wanted to take a walk to clear his head, even if he did have to lock up the studio on his own.

the invitation he has for tomorrow night’s dinner probably includes him giving a performance and yoongi doesn’t feel like playing just yet. there’s something personal about the music he creates with the tips of his fingers and he doesn’t want to let all of the attendees hear it.

thoughts like that make him go straight to his nightstand the second he gets home, finding his sleeping pills and downing another one with some water.

he barely manages to change out of his uniform and into his pajamas before he can feel the effects of the sedative already slowly kicking in, making his mind float and his thoughts slower and soon he’s falling into a deep sleep, body sprawled out on his king sized bed.


3:09 am – looks like it’s another night of tossing and turning in his bed for namjoon. he attributes it to doing absolutely nothing but getting basic groceries the entire day and he sighs, mentally cursing himself for not going out when he had the chance. unlocking his phone, he winces at the brightness of the screen but his eyes soon adjust so he types up a message.

slow night?

and as expected, donghyuk replies only a few minutes later.

kinda. why, miss waiting tables?

you wish, im enjoying myself rn’

you fucking tool u probably cant even sleep and ur texting me bc ur bored

okay donghyuk might know him a lot better than namjoon thinks but that doesn’t prove anything.

smh remind me to stop hanging out with u so much

yea w/e ur still coming tomorrow?

before namjoon can type up a reply, another message from donghyuk makes his phone vibrate.

i mean today i guess?

ofc ksj is gonna be there and i gotta let him know im dtf

fucking nasty

the last incoming message is followed by a

go the fuck to sleep already im getting busy

deciding not to bother his best friend anymore, namjoon locks his phone again, staring up at the ceiling. he manages to last a good ten minutes before he gets up and sits on the floor, pulling up his laptop and opening a word editor. namjoon’s known for writing his best songs when he can’t sleep.


1:01 pm – in an uncharacteristic show of character, yoongi decided to skip classes today. it’s not that he didn’t want to go, but he feels like he has to practice quite a bit, since he really hasn’t gotten a chance to do so in the last few days and something tells him he has gotten pretty rusty.

so here he is, sitting in the studio’s soundproof room and he has gotten exactly ten minutes of solid practice ever since he got here, about an hour and a half ago.

he tries to think about the obligation he has tonight, and how much he actually dreads going, especially now when he knows he’s gonna have to play something, since his mother woke him up with a message confirming his fears.

with heavy eyelids, he lowers his fingers to the keys again, starting from beginning.


7:44 pm – “what the fuck are you doing here so early? i might as well hire your broke ass and keep you here every evening then.” donghyuk shakes his head when he sees namjoon walk through the door.

“fucking pay me then, that’ll take care of approximately ninety percent of the issues in my life.” namjoon grins back, getting himself an apron and a dishcloth to help out with opening. the only reason he’s here so early, even though he would never admit it is because he’s incredibly jittery. he’s running on three hours of sleep and a lot of caffeine.

wiping a nearby table, close to the stage as sort of a foreboding to tonight, he remarks with hope in his voice “i wrote another song last night.”

“yeah?” donghyuk inquires, looking up from drying glasses.

namjoon chuckles to himself. “i’m thinking about performing it tonight. i mean it’s not practiced or anything but it’s over the weeknd’s beats so it shouldn’t be too hard.”

lowering his gaze, donghyuk asks “you got the instrumental here?” and namjoon nods, “on a usb.”

“finish that area and you can practice on stage before we open. don’t fuck around and don’t get too loud.”

sometimes, namjoon truly thanks for shin donghyuk being in his life.


8:39 pm – the dinner starts at nine and yoongi is still sitting on his bed in his oversized shirt and sweatpants, a grim expression on his face. it takes a few more minutes of thinking before he’s walking into his closet, taking a shirt and skinny jeans, putting them on and taking his keys and his phone. he grabs his jacket on his way out and soon he’s exiting the building with rushed steps.

out of the corner of his eye he spots his car waiting for him and he figures why not, walks up to the sleek black vehicle and opens the passenger door.

looking up and down his body to take not of his casual attire, his driver lifts an eyebrow.

“sir, are we not going to the hotel?”

yoongi shakes his head.

“i don’t feel like it. take me to the club.”

even if his driver was gonna protest, or ask any more questions, he stops himself and soon they’re driving down the road yoongi knows all too well.

without the traffic, it takes less than twenty minutes and soon, yoongi’s in the elevator he has been in so many times before except this time, he’s not going to his father’s club. he gives his reflection in the mirror a reassuring nod and presses seven.


8:52 pm – “you’re up in like over an hour, so mind helping me?” donghyuk asks, voice straining so namjoon can hear him over the music and the people talking. namjoon looks up from his phone.

“sure, just give me a few moments to get ready before it, alright?”

donghyuk replies by throwing a standard black apron towards namjoon, “you got it, go switch with hunchul at the bar.”

namjoon spots his friend before he’s even close to the bar. jung hunchul is precisely six feet of long, clumsy limbs, crooked smiles and awkward posture. he’s donghyuk’s friend from high school and when he needed a job, he knew who to turn to, and that resulted in him becoming close with namjoon too. despite knowing him for a little more than a year, namjoon doesn’t always understand him.

hunchul gives him one of his trademark smiles, eyes squinting into crescents, “please tell me donghyuk sent you to tag me out.”

“you betcha” namjoon slaps hunchul’s palm as a greeting, taking his place at the bar, “what’s all the rush for?”

already putting his sweater and jacket on, hunchul concentrates on zipping it up so the teeth of his zipper don’t get stuck in the wool of his worn in gray sweater.

“i’m late for a play” hunchul says and even though his reply is short and his head is bowed, namjoon can see the blood creeping up to paint his cheeks red. hunchul’s dating a theatre actress, a bespectacled, lanky spawn of satan. namjoon has heard of her even before hunchul has introduced them but he never thought a person who usually has compassionate, kind roles, could be so crabby and mischievously evil in real life. she keeps hunchul happy, so namjoon goes with it.

“good luck dude, if you run, i think you’ll catch the bus that takes you a block or two from the theatre.”

hunchul thanks him for the advice and then he’s storming out, leaving namjoon to stare at his back.


9:03 pm – yoongi walks through the wide open door of the door. the music is blaring so loudly it thrums through his body even before he’s actually in the club. there’s no form of bouncers at the entrance but yoongi has a hunch that this isn’t a place to starts fights.

as expected since it’s a friday night, the place is filled to the brim with his peers and yoongi almost regrets coming but he already told his driver to go home for the night, so he might as well enjoy himself.

the room is full of smoke and it vaguely smells like alcohol and yoongi carefully scouts the place, looking around in silent wonder before proceeding to the dance floor, where the bar is.


9:05 pm – there are so many people to serve, almost too many drinks to make and namjoon really doesn’t understand how donghyuk manages to do this; namjoon is this close to ripping out blond wisps of his hair trying to remember which drink goes in which hand.

he’s just finished serving a group of girls when he spots him. even though he’s young and well dressed enough to blend in with the kind of people namjoon is used to seeing here, there’s something about the boy that shows it’s his first time here.

it’s not even the lost look in his eyes, or how he tries to take up as little space as possible, but how he stands in a clearing, looking up at the lights, unsure if he should even be here at all.

after a moment that seems way longer to namjoon, spent in staring at the newcomer despite all the people trying to get namjoon’s attention, the boy lowers his gaze, looking straight at the bar, and walks straight ahead towards it.


9:07 pm – he isn’t even sure what drinks clubs like this serve. the only alcohol yoongi is used to is wine, and occasionally a scotch or a jack, when his father feels generous enough to order it for yoongi too.

he waits until the bartender is free to ask, voice so low he’s sure the other guy didn’t hear his question, “what’s the favorite tonight?”, but the blond gives him a smile.

“too many to list. how drunk are you aiming to get?”

yoongi takes a few seconds to think, “pretty drunk, i guess.”

“alright, gimme a second,” the blond hums and walks away, to the shelves containing various bottles. he’s back way sooner than yoongi expected, a glass half full in his hand. with a smile, he slides it over to yoongi, “enjoy.”

and with that he’s gone.


9:07 pm – “what’s the favorite tonight?” his voice is unusually quiet, a bit deeper than namjoon expected it to be, but pleasant. it’s a pretty strange question but namjoon has heard weirder.

“too many to list.” the boy still isn’t looking at him so namjoon continues, “how drunk are you aiming to get?”

he takes a moments before he answers, and when he does, his eyes finally find namjoon’s face, “pretty drunk, i guess.”

an idea forms in namjoon’s head, a club favorite, “alright, gimme a second.”

he walks over to the shelves where all of their alcohol bottles are, and reaches for the martini bianco, putting in a lime and lemon juice mix and ice cubes before returning to the boy, “enjoy.”

he is pretty cute but namjoon spots seokjin, unmistakeably him, approaching the bar so he leaves, without a word.


9:09 pm – the first sip makes yoongi’s throat burn and he adamantly downs the remainder of the contents of his glass, the insides of his cheeks numb, before realizing the bartender didn’t give him a price. deeming it enough, he puts two ten thousand won bills underneath his glass and walks away from the bar, towards the dance floor.


9:24 pm – seokjin’s friends are in their usual spot, in the vip booth section and namjoon tells donghyuk he’s got it even before donghyuk spots them. “of course you do.”

whenever seokjin talks to him, namjoon’s brain kind of melts and it’s actually incredible he managed to memorize all the orders but he comes back to the bar all giddy and it makes donghyuk roll his eyes at him.

“hey lover boy, you’re up in like half an hour, go get ready.”

he shoos him off with wave of his hand, dismissing him as he takes the order from namjoon’s hands and shoves him in the general direction of the stage. namjoon knows that resistance is futile so he unties the apron from around his waist and runs a hand through his messy hair.

the new song he has been working on earlier today is full of dirty promises and promiscuous remarks and namjoon has every intention of performing it tonight.


9:48 pm – the club he’s in is a carbon copy of the stuff he has seen on movies. there are people dancing and grinding on each other, people chatting loudly at the bar over, consuming enough alcohol to put an elephant down, people making out in darker corners and people playing drinking games in the booths that have a table.

yoongi is already pretty bored.

he thinks about calling it a night and ditching this place when he overhears there’s a performance coming up. he kinda wants to ask what kind of performance it is, but the reluctance to have any sort of conversation is stronger than he’s curiosity.

he orders another drink, this time from another bartender, and stands just a little away from a large group of people, just a little shy of the stage and he waits.


10:02 pm – namjoon walks out on stage two minutes late but he’s pretty sure everyone listening is drunk, if not shitfaced, so does it really matter.

he clears his throat, the sound echoing through the club and he smirks, “since this kind of song is always popular in clubs, i’ll do trouble first.”

there are cheers that follow his statement. despite his gritty, ratty looks, namjoon is actually kind of a big thing in rock bottom, and he’s pretty sure that at least half of the customers are there because of him.

he hears the familiar beat of one of his oldest songs and lets himself get lost in the music.


10:04 pm – the person on stage is the bartender from earlier.

yoongi supposes it’s not that unusual, but he lifts his eyebrows at the stage when he sees him. the drink in his hand is nowhere as good as the first one he’s had tonight and he’s not quite sure what he’s drinking, and if it’ll give him a headache tomorrow morning.

to his surprise, the show is a rap based one. the barista is a rapper and even though yoongi had his doubts, they all dissolve as he hears the boy’s voice again. it was plenty deep when he was asking yoongi about his choice of drink, but it sounds a lot better now, amplified by the microphone.

the first song is a banger, something with an addictive beat and a pre-recorded hook and yoongi actually finds himself enjoying the music.


10:06 pm – there are the familiar spikes of excitement in namjoon’s veins, riling him up and he allows himself an occasional look at where seokjin’s sitting, nodding his head to the music. just next to him, outside of the crowd, the newcomer is standing, looking at him, but namjoon’s too busy concentrating on the way seokjin soaks up every word that leaves namjoon’s mouth.

just that image makes him even happier, and he gives the performance his fullest, pushing himself harder. he’s hellbent on performing the song tonight, excited to see if seokjin’s gonna like it. at this point, that’s the only thing namjoon cares for.


10:32 pm – the show actually relaxes yoongi, undoes the knot in the pit of his stomach and he’s actually left wanting more, hoping for another song just to hear the bartender’s voice again. what he expects to be another fast song turns into a sultry, seductive melody and the boy’s voice drops even more.

yoongi has never been the one to be into sex songs but this one even has him feeling something. the deep, rough voice mixed with a slow, steady beat makes him at least understand why people like this sort of thing. the lyrics are really dirty, describing what the boy on stage would do to the person he wants, how he’d fuck them hard and well and make them scream.

funny how he never explicitly states he’s talking about a girl. the realization makes yoongi chuckle into the brim of his glass, eyes glued to the boy moving on stage like he was born to perform.


10:32 pm – seokjin isn’t even looking at him.

it’s not that it bothers namjoon per se, or at least that’s what he tells himself, but it hurts. it hurts enough for his voice to go to an almost desperate rumble and he’s definitely sure everyone understood the roughness of his vocals a lot differently than intended.

something actually hurts in the hollow of namjoon’s chest and it’s been a while since he felt this way.

luckily, this song is his last for tonight and even though the night turned a lot worse than namjoon had hoped, the people seem to love his new stuff.

namjoon thanks them all for coming and for listening to him and when he lifts up his head, seokjin’s laughing at something on his screen and the place next to him is empty.


8:12 am – yoongi’s awoken by his phone ringing mercilessly, the annoying default ringtone tearing through his dream until he’s rubbing at his eyes, cranky and disoriented.

he picks up before his eyes can properly see, so he doesn’t know who’s calling. he has a hunch though.

“good morning, dear. late night out last night?”

yoongi sits upright and shuts his eyes tight, rubbing at them. his head hurts too much for him to be having this conversation right now.

“morning, mother. not particularly, why?”

there’s a sort of a hushed clamour, the kind yoongi only heard in the background of his calls with his mother and he never asked what happens in her company and he doesn’t intend to, either.

“well,” she replies and yoongi can clearly hear the distinctive note of bitterness in her voice, “i just wanted to make sure you didn’t have a good reason for not showing up last night.”

strange. usually, yoongi’s father is the one who calls to do the scolding when yoongi fails to uphold his reputation as the golden child of the min family.

“yeah, about that…” he trails of, silently hoping his mother will let him off.

“you know these kinds of events are important to your father and me, yoongi.”

he’s completely awake now, suddenly vastly regretting his decisions from last night.

“yeah, i know, i’m sorry.”

his apology falls on deaf ears and yoongi’s morning starts way too soon, with his mother’s sharp voice echoing in his head.


9:55 am – the sound of cars outside his window wakes namjoon from his slumber and yet again he curses himself for picking an apartment close to a major crossroad. he flips his pillow over to the cool side and turns, so he’s lying on his stomach, breathing in deeply before going back to sleep.


9:59 pm – yoongi’s back in the elevator, and this time, he doesn’t even hesitate before pressing seven on the control board. there’s a sort of a quiet, yet mighty fire roaring in his veins and suddenly he’s the same yoongi who went out and got drunk for his sixteenth birthday and the same yoongi who came home one night to his parents with both his ears pierced. he knows very well what that feeling is, all rebellious and proud and demanding and yoongi has never, ever, let it down.

there’s another person inside with him, a boy about his age and yoongi recognizes him from last night. with soft brown hair, doe eyes and full lips, he doesn’t really look like a club regular but yoongi doesn’t really judge books by the cover.

stepping out of the elevator, he walks down the already familiar corridor until he’s past the threshold of the club, music blaring and people already getting drunk, just like how yoongi intends to do.

he supposes there is some sort of morbid satisfaction in the fact that he’s going to get shitfaced just floors below his father’s club. knowing full well he could go to any club, he’s got more than enough money for absolutely any bar that might pique his fancy, he sits down on one of the high chairs at the bar, hoping this act of rebellion will satiate the wildfire crawling through his body.

the person in front of him is too wiry, too short and definitely not tattooed enough to be the bartender from last night, and yoongi frowns a little. the martini from yesterday was good.

he orders jack and tells the guy to keep it coming. before coming here, he decided not to return home before he’s full on shitfaced.


10:33 pm – namjoon walks into the club and sees that it’s already full. it’s not really a surprise; rock bottom is quite the trend these days and that secretly makes namjoon happy. he wants donghyuk to do well.

ikje greets him, “i thought you’d never show up.” but it’s far from malicious.

“yeah, yeah, i’m here now, so shut up.” namjoon replies, taking off his jacket and putting it in the staff only room, locking it after himself and ikje.

“you’d be rushing me if the situation was reversed. i have a date in like fifteen minutes.” ikje never explicitly talks about his love life so this kind of takes namjoon by surprise. he takes the apron from the older boy, nodding at him. “go then.”

ikje pats him on the back, “work hard namjoonie” and then he’s gone, leaving namjoon to take over his work.

most of the people in the club are already drunk, or slowly getting there so namjoon takes it easy, making sure all of the bottles are closed properly and sorting out the clean glasses and supplies. a few moments later, there’s motion in his peripheral vision and when namjoon walks closer, it’s the boy from yesterday.

“another one.” his voice is gruff and his words slur a little and namjoon leans over, so the boy would hear him over the music, “what are you drinking?”

the boy lifts up a glass helplessly, examining it with defocused eyes “this.”

namjoon kind of regrets not asking ikje what he served; if he starts mixing his alcohol, the boy’s gonna end up with a killer headache tomorrow. however, once the boy sees his face, he hisses out, “you!”

namjoon waits for the end of that sentence, but when it doesn’t come, he urges, “yeah. me.” it kind of sounds like a question so the boy continues, “what you made yesterday, i want that.”

“martini?” namjoon asks dumbly, since the boy doesn’t know where he is right now, let alone what he had to drink last night.

“yeah, the one with lime juice.” surprisingly, he remembers. he must hold his liquor better than he lets on.

already grabbing the martini bottle and the shaker, namjoon tries, “are you sure you should be drinking? are you driving yourself home tonight?”

the boy shakes his head, “as long as i can dial my driver’s number, it’s alright.”

so he’s one of the rich kids, namjoon notes. it makes sense, how he looks lost, almost unused to the hustle and bustle of clubs like rock bottom is.

his suspicion confirms itself when he slides the glass, a little bit fuller than it should be, towards the boy and gets a fifty thousand won bill with the words “keep the change.”


10:46 – the martini slides down his throat, leaving a blazing trail as yoongi downs the contents of the glass all at once. head still thrown back, he closes his eyes, trying to stop bile rising, enjoying the haziness of his mind.

he feels like shit, and the aftertaste in his mouth is bitter so he feels it’s fitting. at this point, alcohol is the most harmless thing he can do to himself to get some pressure off his shoulders.


11:02 pm – “i’ve literally been here for like a year and a half and i still don’t get how you memorize all the orders.” namjoon whines to donghyuk, fingers too busy preparing various drinks. it’s actually a miracle he remembers which bottle goes to which rim of which glass, in namjoon’s mind.

donghyuk chuckles, not looking at him, too busy handing out alcohol to everyone.

“maybe you should have saved up some room on your arm, to write it down, instead of tattooing dicks everywhere.”

namjoon’s leg finds donghyuk’s shin, kicking it.

“all these dicks, yet you’re still not getting laid.” namjoon quips, and all he gets in return is donghyuk sticking his tongue at him.


11:06 pm – with an unpleasant ringing in his ears, yoongi somehow gets up. his legs feel like they’re made of jello and he almost regrets drinking so much, but his thoughts are swimming, none of them sticking around long enough for yoongi to fancy it, and he’s grateful for that.

somehow, with an obvious effort, he manages to fish out his phone. all the letters and the numbers on screen dance in front of his eyes, so calling his driver isn’t exactly easy.

he walks out of the club, giving the blond, tattooed barista one last view, or whatever he can muster, given his current state. the hallway leading to the entrance is dark and scarcely populated and yoongi passes by couples making out as he finally manages to call his driver.

“yeah…i’m still at the club, come get me.”

he gets something as a reply but yoongi is too drunk for the words to register in his mind.

he nods a few times before remembering the person on the other line can’t see him and then his eyes land on two boys kissing, the taller one of the two, with broad shoulders, pressing kisses into the smaller boy’s neck.

deciding standing there and staring at the two of them kissing is borderline creepy, yoongi presses the elevator button and not ten minutes later, he’s standing in front of the building, the cold air sobering him up unpleasantly quickly.


4:31 am – by the end of the night, namjoon has gotten quite a tip and more phone numbers scrawled down on napkins he can count, but all he wants to do is go home and rest. it’s kind of ridiculous, how exhausted he is, and he almost falls asleep on the late bus home.

however, all this is worth it; seokjin was there tonight, which was strange, since he never shows up two nights in a row and this time, namjoon actually managed to keep a conversation going for more than half a minute.

it’s precisely that thought that makes namjoon fall asleep in his bed exactly half an hour later, with a smile on his face.


9:47 am – yoongi’s having breakfast in one of his mother’s favorite restaurants. it’s nothing fancy, just scrambled eggs and toast with orange juice, but yoongi’s head is pounding. he’s happy it’s a sunday, so he doesn’t have many places to be.

finishing his third glass of water, yoongi goes through his messages, grateful he didn’t drunk text anyone.

it’s not that yoongi didn’t get closure from his ex boyfriends, it’s just that he sort of alienated himself from them; yoongi alienates himself from everybody. and there are moments when it hurts, like right now. he already misses the feeling of being drunk.


10:04 pm – it’s a thursday, almost a week since namjoon last performed and he’s itching for the numbing feeling of being on stage. donghyuk once told him that people cope with life in different ways, like how all the people here, he said, pointing to the mass on the dancefloor when it was a semi slow night, cope by getting drunk and dancing.

namjoon has no idea how donghyuk copes, but he does it by performing. he’s only nineteen; young enough to still have dreams of grandeur and glory and old enough to realize they’ll never come true. but he pushes himself harder with every show, it’s what makes him happy.

there aren’t a lot of people here tonight, a typical thursday, so namjoon’s pushed out of the slump when the boy he still conveniently calls newcomer walks in.


10:05 pm – the club is probably the worst place yoongi can be right now. he came here straight from practice, his fingers cramping up from pressing keys for almost two hours.

the chair he last sat in is taken by a girl with short hair, so he sits two chairs down, already spotting the blond approaching him.


10:07 pm – “someone likes our little club” is how namjoon greets him, all dimple smiled, and the newcomer looks up, “’like’ is a heavy word.”

“well, as long as you’re here, i guess it doesn’t matter,” namjoon remarks, “what will it be tonight?”

the newcomer shrugs, “anything that tastes good.”

namjoon lifts an eyebrow at him “what do you say about an orgasm?”

it’s a hook, line and sinker and namjoon has made many people, boys and girls alike, blush at this offer but the newcomer looks him straight in the eyes.

“would you recommend it?”

for some reason, the fact that the newcomer plays hard to get amuses namjoon.

“yeah, i would.”


10:10 pm – the blond returns, glass in hand and yoongi wonders if he’s being flirted with. he muses the thought of flirting back over the rim of his glass, looking down and noticing there’s a name and a number scribbled on the napkin which was underneath his glass.

he lets the name slide off his tongue in a whisper, “kim namjoon.”


10:16 pm – “i gave you mine, it’s your turn” namjoon walks to the newcomer, who is still sipping on his cocktail and he gets an empty glass in return, “get me a refill and i’ll consider it.”

it’s followed by a small smile and namjoon leans in, eyebrow lifted in a smirk namjoon knows works with almost anyone. “another orgasm?” and the newcomer smirks back, “obviously.”

well, namjoon did say almost anyone.

his efforts are rewarded, however, when he returns with another glass, and the newcomer slides the napkin namjoon wrote his name on, the neat hangul of “min yoongi” written underneath it.


10:38 pm – he doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol or the fact that yoongi craves another person’s touch but he finds himself flirting right back with namjoon. it feels almost natural, their little game and yoongi’s not sure if the warmth spreading through his body is because of the rum or because he keeps wondering if the tattoos on namjoon’s arms stop at his shoulders, or if they run down his torso.

not that he has thought about namjoon’s naked body.

yoongi knows he’s screwed once namjoon leans up, reaching for the tequila for a cocktail requested by a girl, and the sliver of skin below his stomach shows, and yoongi gets to see his happy trail, swallowing hard.

it’s gonna be a long night.


11:02 pm – namjoon presses yoongi into an empty bathroom, the one on the upper floor, behind the vip booths. they’re kissing and namjoon’s hurriedly grabbing at yoongi’s warm skin, the other’s arms around his neck, keeping him close.

once namjoon lifts yoongi onto the cupboard next to the sink, yoongi moans into his mouth, a delicious deep sound and namjoon can literally feel the blood rushing south.

he presses his hips into yoongi’s, groaning at the contact and yoongi claws down his back, his pale fingers underneath namjoon’s loose shirt. it makes namjoon delirious, biting down just below yoongi’s jawline, content when he sees the mark on yoongi’s unmarred skin.

“fuck,” yoongi whines and namjoon’s fingers skim over his abdomen as he kisses a trail down yoongi’s neck, occasionally biting down, hard enough for it to bruise.

“yoongi,” namjoon breathes out, “can i?”

he’s sure the other is too drunk to realize what namjoon’s asking permission for, but he nods, “go ahead.” his voice is airy and needy and namjoon wastes no time unzipping his pants and sliding his long fingers into yoongi’s boxers, silently thanking his past self for remembering to put travel sized lube into his pocket before he went out.

the gasp he gets in return is beautiful and namjoon wraps his hand around yoongi’s dick, hoping to hear it again; yoongi’s head is thrown back and his fingertips are digging into the inked skin of namjoon’s shoulders, almost drawing blood.

it’s precisely the kind of rush namjoon needs and he pulls yoongi’s chin down with his free hand, to kiss him again, to feel the vibration of the moan that yoongi pushes into his mouth when namjoon collects the precum off his dick.

“shit, namjoon,” yoongi’s already breathless and namjoon loves every second of watching him squirm, it makes him even harder, something he didn’t think possible. soon, his free hand is travelling to his own crotch, unbuttoning his pants to wrap around his own dick, while steadily jerking yoongi off.

he can sense when yoongi’s close, knows it because yoongi gets rough, nails clawing down his arms and he intentionally slows his pumps down, prolongs yoongi’s orgasm, cause yoongi to hiss into his ear, cursing him out.

namjoon shushes him with a kiss to his lips, working his own dick just the way he likes it, with just a little less lube than usual. he can feel the coil tightening in the pit of his stomach and the hand in yoongi’s pants starts moving again, and yoongi rewards him with a loud, breathy moan that echoes off the tiled walls.


11:08 pm – “namjoon, i’m,” it’s interrupted by a whine, “i’m close” and namjoon nods, kissing him, biting down on yoongi’s lower lip until it’s bruised and swollen.

yoongi doesn’t do this. hooking up in club bathrooms isn’t exactly his style but namjoon’s long fingers wrapped around his dick feel too good, too sinful and he can’t help but snap his hips into namjoon’s fist.

his abdomen is too tense and he feels like he’s gonna explode so his lips search for namjoon’s once again, finding them just a second before he comes all over namjoon’s hand.

the blond follows short after, coming with a groan let out into the skin of yoongi’s neck and the second both of them regain their breath yoongi shoves namjoon off, not too roughly but he doesn’t look at him. he zips his pants, breathing in, as namjoon stares him in awe after washing his hands and yoongi suddenly can’t stay in this cramped bathroom anymore.

“i, uh, thank you. it was good.” and with that yoongi leaves the bathroom quickly, leaving namjoon behind him, lost and confused.


11:49 pm – “where the hell did you run off to?” donghyuk asks, and gives namjoon a long look. namjoon can almost see the realization in donghyuk’s eyes when he sees namjoon’s mussed hair and swollen lips.

“oh. nevermind.” he shoves a fifty thousand bill into namjoon’s hands, “stop fucking around on the job, quite literally, and gimme this in tens.”

“why the fuck do you assume i have fifty thousand won just lying around?” namjoon retorts, already fishing out his wallet.

“because there’s no way anyone would willingly fuck you without you paying them, and i’m hoping you have some change from that transaction.” donghyuk quips but when namjoon doesn’t return the jab or even smiles, he shuts up, patting his shoulder before walking away towards the bar again.

it’s safe to say namjoon feels like absolute and utter shit.


9:56 am – tuesday finds yoongi in class, absentmindedly scribbling down notes he knows he won’t be able to read later on, but it’s not like he cares.

the hickeys on his neck are pretty prominent and he is damn grateful that it’s already getting colder, so he can wear a scarf and avoid nosey questions. it’s very unlike of yoongi to display any kind of emotion, especially the one of lust and he supposes it’s been well over a year since he last had a relationship.

they’re too messy and needy and yoongi doesn’t like them, so he stays on his own, happy in his little world.

it’s what he tells himself every morning and what he fails to believe every night.


12:15 pm – hyosang invited him for coffee and namjoon’s never the one to refuse a free coffee, no matter what kind of bullshit he has to listen to for it. however, he likes hyosang, especially now that the latter has been absent enough for namjoon to miss him.

hyosang is pretty much a daredevil and lives his life to the fullest, as he likes to tell almost every cute girl he meets. he spends all his free time and available money on hiking and traveling and being all over the place, quite literally.

donghyuk’s the only person namjoon knows that’s dumb enough to hire hyosang, and fund his weird desires of going everywhere and seeing everything.

“thailand,” he takes a sip of his beer and drinking beer just pass noon is not the weirdest thing namjoon has seen hyosang do, “is fucking beautiful. i wish i stayed longer.”

namjoon nods, gulping down his espresso with milk like his life depended on it, “so why didn’t you?”

hyosang grins, “and let you all miss me so much? where’s the fun in that.”

namjoon snorts so hyosang looks at him with an amused smile, “so namjoonie, what’s up with you? what went on while i was gone? did anything happen with,” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, “you and seokjin?”

the thing is, seokjin and hyosang go way back. namjoon is almost certain they were even friends in kindergarten, so he really doesn’t understand why hyosang is serving him to namjoon on a silver platter. sure, the might not talk as much as they used to, but it still doesn’t make sense to namjoon.

“nah, nothing much happened. hunchul is still dating his godzilla of a girlfriend, at this point we’re all waiting for a wedding, ikje got a girlfriend, but you didn’t hear it from me, donghyuk is still filthy rich. and nothing new with me.”

hyosang’s eyebrows raise at that, “you’re still not scoring with seokjin? when did your game get so weak?”

namjoon gives him a small shrug, “i just don’t think i’m a thing on planet seokjin.”

shaking his head, hyosang laughs, “alright, alright, what about anyone else?”

the second he hears the words, namjoon’s mind fills with images of yoongi laughing, yoongi looking at him on the stage from his place near the bar, yoongi throwing his head back in a moan.

“nope. no one else.”


7:22 pm – the sky outside is already dark, with clouds rolling in and wind blowing almost audibly around the studio yoongi’s in. the lights are dimmed, making the room scarcely bathed in a golden glow, and yoongi finally feels at ease.

his fingers are over the black keys of his piano, and really, he doesn’t even know the lights at all; he knows the massive wooden instrument like the back of his hands, knows every string and key, and after so many years of practice, he could probably play it blindfolded. yoongi muses the thought of doing so for a few brief moments, but decides to leave such a challenge for another time, when he doesn’t feel so restless everywhere but here.

some sort of an uncomfortable knot has taken residence in yoongi’s stomach, making him irritated and nervous almost all the time and he’s not sure what’s wrong with him. the only time he actually gets a break from his own thoughts is when the music he plays drowns out the tidal wave of his insecurities.

with a somber, pained expression, yoongi moves his gaze from the giant window, to his piano, fingers going in place for the composition he has open; it’s getting late.


1:00 am – “hey, romeo with the ugly tattoos,” donghyuk calls out, making namjoon look up from where he put his jacket off, “some girl is out there, asking for you.”

it’s a saturday, and namjoon just got there. sometimes, he’s grateful donghyuk doesn’t give him shit for making up his own work time.

“do you know her?” he asks, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater, the black ink contrasting the white wool he has on.

“no clue. apparently, she saw you here a few times and she wants to talk to you.”

this isn’t the first time something like this has happened and namjoon figures he might as well kill the time, “alright, where is she?”

donghyuk points him to the second last chair on the left side of the bar, where a girl not a day over eighteen stands, tapping away on her phone. she’s pretty cute and donghyuk shoves namjoon in her direction, patting his lower back less than gently, “kill ‘em.”


2:13 pm – the second yoongi’s classes finish the next tuesday, he gets a call from his father. reluctantly, he picks up, voice already tired.


“yoongi ah.” his father’s voice is pleasant but yoongi is too tired to play polite. his first class started at eight am and yoongi didn’t sleep much last night and he just wants to go to practice, then pass out on his bed till the next morning.

“yes, father?”

yoongi can already spot his driver, and he waits at the curb for the sleek, black vehicle to stop in front of him.

“your mother and i would like to see you. are you free tonight?”

no. “yes.”

“then, after practice, at the club?”

yoongi really doesn’t want to go.


his father bids him goodbye with a “see you, son.”

yoongi foregoes practice in total, content curling up in the corner to the window, looking out and listening to big sean’s new album. he stays in that position almost the entire time, and he has to spend quite an amount of time convincing himself to get up and get it over with already.


10:41 pm – namjoon managed to convince donghyuk to let him perform next week. after all, namjoon’s there as a performer, not as a bartender, and even though he’s happy to jump in and help whenever help is needed, he still values rapping a lot more.

so he really doesn’t know what he’s doing here before midnight; currently he’s waiting for the elevator, since he is supposed to take a sealed envelope to the reception of the building. he’s at least half sure what he’s carrying is quite a large sum of bribe money, used to keep police out of rock bottom for noise complaints. turning the small, white item between his fingers, he tries to imagine how much could possibly be inside, but before he can even make an assumption, the elevator dings and the thick metal doors open in front of him.

there’s only one person in the elevator, going down, and the second namjoon sees his face, his gaze hardens, mouth pursing.


10:43 pm – “yoongi.”

yoongi looks up from the sleeves of his uniform only to find namjoon staring down at him. after what seems an eternity of a staring contest, but had to be just a few seconds, since the elevator door is still open, namjoon comes in, a bitter smile in the corner of his lips as he turns around to press the button for ground floor.

mind going into overdrive, yoongi speaks up, “namjoon, i-”


10:43 pm – he really doesn’t want to listen to this. if there’s something namjoon hates, it’s listening to excuses like this “you what?”

turning around a little, so he can actually see yoongi, namjoon makes sure to soften the glare he’s staring him down with.

“what, you got shitfaced and decided to have some fun with a bartender? it’s not the first time this has happened to me. you don’t owe me explanations.”

yoongi breathes out, looking like he deflated into something that’s quite a bit smaller than yoongi. “so you’re not mad?”

namjoon sizes him up and down once, twice; yoongi looks exhausted, still in his uniform and namjoon almost feels sympathetic towards him. “i’m not mad. you didn’t have to be a dick, though.”


10:44 pm – the thing is, yoongi doesn’t particularly consider himself a dick. hook-ups just really aren’t his thing. while it’s true that he has thought about that night quite a bit, yoongi still resents himself for breaking so easily. there’s just something about namjoon.

“i’m sorry for being a dick.” yoongi chuckles, finally lifting his gaze to look back at namjoon, who just nods, “apology accepted.”

the elevator pings again and they’re there. namjoon exits first, heading straight to the reception, awkwardly unsure if he should say goodbye.

however, he stops just in time, “yoongi?” and yoongi turns to him “yeah?”

“will i see you around rock bottom again?” it sounds hopeful despite namjoon trying to hide it and that fact makes yoongi smile.


namjoon waves goodbye and yoongi puts his earphones in before opening the door to the building to exit into the cold october air.


10:57 pm – “the fuck took you so long?” donghyuk demands to know almost the second namjoon walks back inside, “did you fucking take it to china?”

“jesus, calm down. the elevator was busy.”

donghyuk breathes out, clearly relieved, “i’m sorry, but that always gets me nervous.”

namjoon shrugs. what donghyuk does with his money is his own personal thing.

“it’s cool. i took forever cause i met a…friend in the elevator.” he accents the word, making donghyuk lifts his eyebrow at him, “friend friend or friend friend?”

sitting down at the bar, namjoon laughs, “if you’re asking me if i’ve had my hand down his pants, the answer is yes.”

“as expected.” donghyuk notes, filling up two glasses with scotch and putting one before namjoon, keeping the other one for himself. “do i know of this friend of yours?”

taking a gulp first, namjoon allows his throat to go pleasantly numb before replying, “dunno. he sometimes comes here but i don’t know if you’ve seen him around.”

“whatever happened to kim seokjin, huh, namjoonie?” donghyuk’s tone of voice is teasing and namjoon blames the alcohol for the rush of blood he feels to his cheeks.

“shut up, i’m still planning to go out with him. i just need to figure out my strategy.”

downing his scotch, donghyuk gets up, “yeah, you do that. i gotta get to work.”


11:00 pm – it’s an invitation to a concert in singapore. yoongi knows his father pulled a few strings to get him a solo on the stage, but yoongi’s still flattered.

not happy, or excited, just flattered.

the concert’s next week, on monday, and his mother told him she hopes that gives him more than enough time to prepare himself properly for such an honor. even though yoongi’s fingers ache from constant practice, he does intend to push himself a little bit harder this week.


1:06 am – namjoon thinks fucking seokjin would feel like the thrill of a performance well done, at least that’s what he tells himself whenever he comes down from his orgasm high after jerking off to the thought of fucking that pretty face.

right now he’s ending his last song that nigh and his heart is beating so strong namjoon is sure he can feel it in absolutely every part of his body, from his ribcage to the tips of his fingers, and for some reason, the only thing he can think of is the curve of yoongi’s lips and the sleepy slant of his eyes.

he tries his best to clear his mind but, for some reason, his mind is filled with images of yoongi and somehow, the boy is the only permanent thought in the exhilarating void that’s his mind now and it unnerves namjoon.


1:06 am – it’s six minutes past midnight in singapore and yoongi just played the last notes of his composition. there’s a comfortable lack of any tangible thoughts in his head, like always when he performs, but this time, he feels more exhausted.

it’s not that his performance was hard, after all it wasn’t a solo concert, but he’s so worn out he’s actually wondering how no one is noticing he’s only half present. what keeps him going is the promise of a warm bed waiting for him when he gets back to the hotel; yoongi has learned to find happiness with smaller things long ago.


7:14 pm – it’s been precisely three weeks since seokjin was at the club, and a month since namjoon saw yoongi. he tries to not let it bother him too much but he can’t help feeling the smallest bit empty. the girl he met about a month ago was a good distraction, but it was obvious she was his for his reputation. it’s okay, he was hers out of despair and boredom, too.

namjoon’s in the grocery store a couple of minutes away from his apartment building. he prefers this store to any other in his neighborhood simply because their chicken flavored ramyun packets cost a thousand, rather than a thousand and a half won. also because the old lady at the cash register likes him, always telling him he reminds her of her son, who’s currently in the army, and she always makes sure to give him something for free; anything ranging from bananas to cans of pork.

it’s gonna rain soon, the winter approaching rapidly, and namjoon zips his hoodie all the way up, nestling his chin in the warmth of the fluffy cotton as he steps out, grocery bag in hand. he allows himself a glance at the clouds rolling in on the sky above, then he’s heading home.


8:41 pm – yoongi somehow gets caught up in waking up, going to class, going to the practice room or studying, coming home, sleeping, and repeating the process over and over again. the days slip through his fingers like sand and he feels like he’s on autopilot most of the time.

friday evening finds him driving home from his piano practice, fingers unable to stay still and a soft nausea finding purchase in the pit of his stomach. the sky overhead is gloomy and overcast and yoongi doesn’t find solace even in the familiar beats coming through his earphones.

“come pick me up at ten thirty tonight”

he says, voice dripping with boredom. he has appearances to keep up, anyway.

not the one to ask questions, what yoongi’s infinitely thankful for, his driver just nods, “alright, i’ll be waiting in front of your apartment.”


10:28 pm – there was a point in namjoon’s life when he had to come to terms that, even though he tells people otherwise, his performer position is just a glorified title of a bartender with weekend gigs. that point occurred quite a while ago so namjoon’s made amends with that fact. as long as it puts food and isn’t terribly demeaning; even for a person with questionable morals like kim namjoon.

besides, rapping is the only kind of love namjoon’s sure of feeling and if he has to scrub a couple of hundred tables per week to get to stand on that stage, he’ll most definitely do it.

doesn’t mean he’s gonna be happy about it; it’s kind of a pain in the ass to constantly walk up and down the stairs cause jung fucking hunchul chose a friday to ask for a free day and so namjoon’s covering his turf for half the night. it’s donghyuk’s friend’s birthday and since they’re close, donghyuk decided on hosting a party, with all his friends invited, namjoon included, of course. so, all in all, namjoon’s pretty sure he can last for less than another hour.


10:57 pm – quite truthfully, yoongi actually has no way of knowing if namjoon’s even gonna be in tonight. he has absolutely no idea of how bartending shifts work and he’s hoping luck is on his side. the blonde bartender slash rapper was here last friday yoongi was in, so yoongi hopes that logic will reunite them again. he doesn’t let suspicion eat away at his hope and he steps out the elevator on seventh floor, excitement making his heartbeat resonate in his ears even over the heavy bass coming through the walls.

thankfully, namjoon is there. unfortunately, he’s surrounded by his, yoongi presumes, friends. it seems he stumbled into a party and suddenly he feels very much like turning around on his heels and walking right back out but then he and namjoon make eye contact and namjoon’s expression softens ever so slightly, yoongi isn’t sure if he saw it at all.

all he knows, he can’t leave now, and, like hypnotized, he moves closer, barely avoiding namjoon to go straight to the bar, feeling his heavy gaze on his back.

he orders scotch and before he knows what’s going on, there’s a guy already pestering him. the guy in question smells of cheap vodka and sweat and yoongi scrunches his nose at the slurred “hey, baby, can i buy you a drink?”

when he says no, he already has a drink, the guy starts insisting and yoongi isn’t used to people being in his personal space so soon so he’s already getting aggressive in his replies, sort of regretting he didn’t go to namjoon first. yoongi finds himself regretting that a lot these days.


11:05 pm – “you know, when someone asks to buy you a drink, you accept, you fucking stuck up brat.”

namjoon’s definitely close enough to hear the malice in the stranger’s voice, and yoongi looks so tiny, yet so unimpressed by the man’s lanky form looming over him threateningly. right before the brown haired boy says anything, namjoon’s arm circles his waist.

“listen dude, you’re drunk, maybe you should go take a walk or something. you’re obviously bothering him.”


11:06 pm – the guy gives namjoon a long look and shrugs “he ain’t fucking worth it, anyway.” before staggering away. namjoon makes sure to see him walk away before his body’s relaxing. yoongi’s still hyperaware of namjoon’s arm around his waist possessively and the second his harasser is out of sight, he moves away from the warmth of namjoon’s body and his familiar scent.

“i was handling it.”

namjoon gives him a lazy smile, “never said you weren’t.”


11:19 pm – it’s some sort of psychological warfare, namjoon concludes; yoongi’s just out of touch. if namjoon extended his left arm just a bit further, he’d be able to reach the material of yoongi’s oversized sweater, but yoongi has a way of glaring without even looking at him, so he chooses to stay as close to him as possible, without physically touching.

“i’m glad you came back.” namjoon tells him.

“i’m not back. i’m just…here.” yoongi shrugs, downing what looks like the remainder of scotch in his glass.

“whatever,” namjoon turns his back to the party, so he’s leaning on the bar as he reaches over the counter to get himself a glass of water, “i’m glad either way.”

yoongi finally looks at him at that, dark eyes boring holes in namjoon’s profile, “why?”

“it’s nice to see you?” raising his eyebrows at him over the brim of his glass, namjoon asks, and yoongi seems to accept that as a reply.

“it’s nice to see you too.”


01:28 am – yoongi wonders how he never noticed just how dark and molten namjoon’s eyes are at this proximity. his lips are bitten and the slightest bit swollen, something yoongi’s quite proud of and yoongi can’t stop staring down at his face, making namjoon smile, the corners of his lips lifting upwards in a lazy motion.


even though yoongi sees everything in his peripheral vision twice, he’s pretty sure namjoon’s far more gone than he is, and for some reason, he finds it endearing. his fingers tugging the short hairs on the back of namjoon’s neck, yoongi leans down for another kiss.


surprisingly, he quite likes the feeling of namjoon’s hands over his hips as yoongi sits in his lap, comfortably nestled with his thighs on either side of namjoon’s body. in the back of his mind, he thinks he should feel at least a little ashamed over the fact he’s making out obscenely with a boy in a public club, but namjoon’s licking into his mouth so sinfully and his hands are slowly moving from yoongi’s sharp hipbones down to his ass.

the second namjoon’s long fingers squeeze the flesh of his ass, yoongi groans out into namjoon’s mouth, tugging on his hair and instinctively grounding his hips against namjoon’s. he’s half surprised, half pleased to find out namjoon’s half hard, and yoongi is slowly, but steadily getting there.

“is this why you missed me?” yoongi asks, cheekily, although even he himself can notice how shaky his voice comes out.

namjoon is nothing but dead honest, as usual, “one of the reasons.”

“is the other reason because i look like the guy you like?”

namjoon’s whole body tenses at that, and he opens his eyes to look at yoongi’s face.


not quite content with the reply, yoongi pushes on, “but you do like him?” he’s really giving it his best in trying to not let it slip how curious he actually is.

“i don’t know. it’s complicated. but trust me, it has nothing to do with you.”

yoongi looks at namjoon’s eyes, his pupils blown wide and even if namjoon was lying, yoongi isn’t able to see it.


and then he’s sinking down again, capturing namjoon’s lips with his own and namjoon pulls him closer, hands sneaking underneath his shirt to leave angry red lines across yoongi’s back and yoongi hisses. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss namjoon, too.


02:40 am – yoongi takes him home.

saying his chauffeur is done for the day, yoongi halts a cab, telling the driver his address once both him and namjoon are inside the car and namjoon absentmindedly notes that the address yoongi has given the man is in one of the rich neighborhoods. makes sense, since yoongi has a driver, but it makes namjoon realize how little he knows yoongi; he doesn’t even know his age.

“yoongi,” he asks quietly, feeling himself sober up, “how old are you?”

it seems like such a random question to yoongi, who laughs, “twenty. you?”


when yoongi laughs “young blood” at him, namjoon realizes he’s a goner; the fact that the alcohol is dissolving in his blood doesn’t affect his desire for yoongi the slightest. if anything, it kindles it even more and namjoon has to physically restrain himself from kissing yoongi right here.


02:56 am – he doesn’t even wait before the door’s properly closed before he’s kissing him; yoongi catches namjoon by surprise as he pins him to the massive dark wood. namjoon’s reaction is instantaneous; his hands slide down yoongi’s sides until they reach his ass, pressing his body closer to namjoon, slipping his tongue inside yoongi’s mouth.

yoongi bites down on namjoon’s lower lip, almost breaking the flesh with his teeth, and then he’s pulling away, to drag namjoon into his room and shove him down on the bed, straddling him.

“wouldn’t have thought you’d be this eager.” namjoon says, voice breathless and yoongi doesn’t want to part their lips long enough to reply, busy fingers already working on ridding namjoon of his shirt.


03:00 am - yoongi’s absolutely mesmerizing, in namjoon’s mind. he’s definitely no stranger to hook ups and one night stands but this right now feels like so much more. it makes namjoon ask just how much does he care about yoongi.

enough for the question yoongi asked about seokjin to repeat itself in namjoon’s head, like a broken record player.

surprisingly enough, nothing about the scene unfolding itself before namjoon’s hungry gaze reminds him of seokjin in the slightest. yoongi is undressing himself, throwing the oversized sweater to the floor by the door before leaning down to kiss namjoon and drag blunt nails down his bare chest, down to his abdomen.

once they’re both naked, yoongi reaches for the drawer in his night stand, to search for lube, feeling a heavy gaze on his back when he hears the question.


03:03 am – “shouldn’t i call you hyung?”

namjon really didn’t intend for that question to slip but there’s a sick satisfaction in the pit of his stomach now that it’s out in the open.

yoongi turns back around, crawling on top of namjoon, a small bottle in his hands and, quite frankly, namjoon just wants to rip out his hair from the roots seeing something so seductive.

once yoongi’s finally content with his position on top of namjoon’s thighs again, he shrugs, “i guess. it’s up to you though.”

offering him the small bottle, yoongi looks straight at namjoon, “do you want to stretch me or should i?”

his tone of voice indicates this is far from his first time, but namjoon doesn’t judge. he isn’t in a position to even consider judging yoongi, since he’s pretty sure he’s had dozens of partners in the last year alone.

“i’ll do it.”

yoongi moans prettily as namjoon scissors his fingers inside of him. it’s a sensation completely foreign to namjoon but he can’t stop looking at the contrast of the ink in his skin compared to the milkyness of yoongi’s thighs, and the little gasps and shudders yoongi lets out whenever namjoon’s long fingers graze over a sensitive bundle of nerves inside of him go straight to namjoon’s dick and he honestly doubt he has ever been this turned on.

once yoongi almost screams, his grip on namjoon’s shoulders tightens and he whines out “fuck me, please.”

it sounds so weak and needy and who is namjoon to say no to that so he slicks up his dick, and even before he’s done closing the small bottle, yoongi’s already sitting down, stretching himself even more.

namjoon lets out a groan, hissing out “shit, you’re so tight” and yoongi takes it as a compliment, not even giving himself enough time to get adjusted to the feeling of being filled before he’s rotating his hips rhythmically and it makes namjoon snap his eyes shut, the sensation too good for him to keep his eyes open.

“fuck, yoongi” he breathes out, voice straining, his hands keeping yoongi’s hips at his pace, nails digging into the unmarred skin.

yoongi finally lifts up his head from its previous position on namjoon’s shoulder at his name being called, “yeah?” and his voice is a wonderfully deep rumble that resonates through namjoon’s ribcage due to their proximity.

“you’re really hot, you know that?”

not giving him a reply, yoongi shuts him up with a bruising kiss, but soon he’s the one who can’t keep up anymore, his hips straining at his movements and namjoon pulls yoongi down, as close as they can be, before flipping them over so yoongi’s on his back on his own bed.

like this, namjoon’s the one setting the pace and he stops refraining himself from fucking into yoongi hard and fast, making him moan as he arches his body and throws his head back. what he gets as a reward is a keening noise of yoongi whining namjoon’s name, fingers clawing down his tanned back as his other hand moves from the crumpled sheets, to tangle in namjoon’s hair.

yoongi’s incredibly tight and even without that, it’s min yoongi who’s moaning and panting underneath him, and just that thought pushes namjoon forward and he knows he’s not far. he reaches down to wrap his fingers around yoongi’s dick, quickly setting a pace in time with his thrusts on the familiar flesh and the moan that rips from yoongi’s throat at that is prettier than any track namjoon will ever hear, let alone make.

it’s messy and rough and all kinds of sinfully good and namjoon mentally congratulates himself for lasting this long; yoongi’s almost lethal, his very own kryptonite and right now, namjoon dares think that not even his precious kim seokjin can measure up to this.

he’s interrupted from his thoughts as yoongi breathes out his name, “nam…namjoon, i’m close.”

it sounds ragged and breathless and namjoon takes pride in the fact that it’s all because of him. he’s not far off either and he kisses yoongi, his pace on his dick quickening , “come for me.”

three strokes later, it’s exactly what yoongi does.


03:24 am – yoongi’s world is painted a clear white for a good few moments and when he comes to, namjoon’s hips are frantically snapping into him before he comes inside of him, letting out a deep, guttural groan into the base of yoongi’s neck, keeping him impossibly close. yoongi wouldn’t leave even if he could. there’s just something about namjoon that drives him crazy and yoongi’s hellbent on finding out what it exactly is.


07:48 pm – “looks like someone got lucky last night.” ikje notes when namjoon finally finishes wiping all the tables, his tray full of cigarette butts in small ashtrays.

“not my fault only some of us can get lucky, hyung” he smirks at him cheekily and donghyuk, sitting on one of the chairs at the bar, snorts.

“ah, truly, only the selected few can score with min yoongi.”

ikje’s singsong voice makes donghyuk lift his head up a lot quicker than expected, given his lethargic persona, “wait, what the fuck?”

when both ikje and namjoon look confused at his question, donghyuk tries to explain himself, “did you just say namjoon’s with min yoongi?”

ikje nods, “yeah, last night they were almost fucking in the vip booth,” visibly confused.

at that, donghyuk’s half impressed, half bewildered look turns to namjoon’s face.


namjoon really doesn’t understand any of this. while he is pretty sure yoongi’s more than rich, he didn’t really think of him as someone with such a big reputation even ikje knows it.


“don’t tell me you don’t know who yoongi is.” donghyuk deadpans and when namjoon tells him that really, he has no idea, he calls him a fuckwit.

“he’s the heir of this huge business group. his family is literally rolling in dough. how the fuck do you not know who min yoongi is.”

even hunchul, who’s finished cleaning the tables at his part of the club, joins in, tying the apron around his waist tighter.

“namjoon, even i know who yoongi is. what about him, though?” he looks at donghyuk for answers and donghyuk shrugs.

“ikje says namjoon hooked up with him.”

hunchul looks at namjoon hearing that, “really? wow. i always kind of thought you’d just wait for seokjin to come to forever.”

namjoon rolls his eyes, “hyung, i’m nineteen, i’m not gonna let the fact that i thirst for seokjin come in the way of me getting laid every once in a while.”

at times like these, namjoon regrets being the youngest in his group of friends; donghyuk isn’t much older than him, but he acts too mature for his age, most of the time.

“so, let me get this straight,” ikje laughs out, “you managed to score with min yoongi, and to you, he was just a one night stand. brutal.”

the way ikje says it makes namjoon’s stomach twist and churn uncomfortably. it’s true that he left before yoongi woke up the morning after their night together, and it’s true that he hasn’t called him ever since, but namjoon considers yoongi something a lot more.

the more he thinks about it, the guiltier he feels.


11:26 am – every time yoongi looks at his phone, a wave of disappointment washes over him. it’s not like he’s not aware of how one night stands work, but he was really hoping he wasn’t just another name on namjoon’s list.

it’s been exactly five days since he brought namjoon home, and not a single word from him since then so far.

he’s in economy class when his phone vibrates, a message from an unknown number making his phone light up and vibrate too loudly before yoongi takes it off the table to check it out.

“sorry for not calling/texting earlier
  are you coming to the club soon?”

it’s brief and straight to the point and yoongi doesn’t even doubt that it’s namjoon. he replies with “idk, maybe, i’ll see” and saves namjoon’s number to his contacts, just in case.


08:49 pm – namjoon steps out of his shower and wraps a towel around his waist. the entirety of his small, cramped bathroom is filled with thick steam from how hot his shower was and namjoon has to slide his palm over the fogged up mirror to look at his reflection.

it’s a saturday and yoongi promised to drop by the club tonight so namjoon, for reasons he doesn’t even know, makes sure to look good. it’s not that he’s worried about impressing yoongi, he’s more worried about being worried about impressing yoongi.

he’s not sure when exactly yoongi became something more to him, but he’s been thinking, and dreaming, about him a lot lately. of course, he’s no seokjin so namjoon doesn’t tell anyone, but it’s yoongi’s face that he falls asleep too, and his voice that he wakes up to.

if nothing, namjoon just wants to get some answers to questions yoongi raised, strolling into the club one night.

he walks out of the bathroom and into his comically small flat. secretly, it’s the only place namjoon feels like he’s home at. to him, it’s his beacon of independence and namjoon considers these two small rooms too sacred to bring anyone here, especially strangers to fuck.

the only person who was even considered was kim seokjin, in some better time, when namjoon actually thought he had a chance with him.

seokjin meant so much to him that the tiles of namjoon’s bathroom are painted with memories and images of the older boy. and that’s a lot, namjoon thinks.

so it confuses him why in the hell is seokjin getting so easily replaced by a bored, introverted rich boy who probably considers namjoon nothing more than an easy lay.

it’s alright though. most of the time, namjoon thinks of yoongi the same. most of the time.


11:11 pm – “make a wish” namjoon tells yoongi, watching him down his poison of choice for the night.

“i want to be able to sleep in every morning for the rest of my life.” yoongi replies, slurring his words the tiniest bit.

“don’t tell me what your wish is, it won’t come true.” namjoon says, serving pina colada to the couple waiting next to yoongi’s chair.

“namjoon, my wishes don’t come true either way. why do you think i’m shitfaced in the middle of the week?”

his tone isn’t harsh, or accusing, just very flat, like yoongi has reconciled with what he’s saying.

“i’ve seen people drink more sooner in the week.” namjoon says, factually.

“actually,” yoongi continues, unperturbed by namjoon’s remark, “i’m supposed to be in class in-” he takes a moment to look at the watch on his hand, “eight hours.”

namjoon wants to ask what yoongi’s major is, but he has a hunch it’s probably something related to continuing his father’s position.

“i’m not gonna stop you from drinking, man, i got bills to pay, so drink up.”

“thanks, asshole.” but he’s not stopping namjoon from pouring more gin in his glass.


11:34 pm – namjoon’s pretty certain yoongi has no idea of his whereabouts, or even who he is, but his words still hurt.

“he’s dating someone, y’know?”

even though he’s slurring heavily at his point, his head propped up by an arm leaning on the bar surface, and his eyes are hazed to hell and back, he knows what he’s talking about.

“your little crush, the one wit’he pretty eyes. he haaas s’meone.”

“okay, yoongi, no more bombay sapphire for you. gimme your glass.” namjoon tries to change the topic but yoongi’s steel solid gaze makes him freeze.

“he’s hella fuckin’ pretty too, his boyfriend. must suck for you.”

the world stops spinning around its axis and the neon lights dance in front of namjoon’s eyes haphazardly, like small lanterns in the wind.

“i’ve seen how you look at him, especially when you perform.” the words continue pouring from yoongi’s lips, “it’s a dead giveaway. it’s not that he doesn’t know, he just chooses not to react on it.”

namjoon does the smart thing; he tells yoongi to shut the fuck up and kicks him out, passing by a very confused and very bewildered donghyuk on his way back.


11:46 pm – yoongi manages to find his phone in his pocket, his intoxicated state forcing him to go slower than usual and he quick dials his driver, telling him an address, not even caring the man was dismissed for the day. once he’s in front of the club, yoongi shoves a couple of ten thousand won bills in the driver’s general direction, dozing off in the passenger seat quickly afterwards.


12:00 am – it’s not that namjoon doesn’t know about seokjin dating. he just never planned on facing the fact that seokjin’s into someone other than him.

but, thinking back to it, it’s obvious namjoon’s too old and too tall and too blonde for seokjin’s taste.

no, kim seokjin’s mostly into younger guys, the ones with raven black hair and catlike eyes, the ones who resemble a bunny when they smile, the ones namjoon pretends he didn’t see climbing onto seokjin’s lap after a party.

it’s a sobering realization, facing the facts, but it hurts a lot when namjoon gets home at almost three am, and looks at the couch he thought about cuddling seokjin on, walks into the bathroom where he imagined seokjin stepping out of the shower, looks at the bed he imagined undressing seokjin on.

fuck min yoongi and his know-it-all tone of voice, namjoon thinks, irritated. for some reason, the smug expression on yoongi’s face when he broke namjoon’s heart keeps dancing in front of his eyes and namjoon regrets not punching him in the face when he still had the chance.


3:25 am – halfway across town, yoongi shifts in his sleep, his breathing deep. he didn’t bother changing when he got to the apartment, almost too drunk to stand, so now his belt buckle is digging uncomfortably into the skin of his stomach.

however, his alcohol induced slumber is too deep for the discomfort to wake him up and yoongi lets out a small whine as he flips back to his side on his king sized bed, completely unaware of the predicament he has put namjoon in and the dark thoughts running through the blonde’s head.


5:48 pm – “so.” donghyuk says finally, “why does it look like you have no idea what to do next?”

“because i don’t.” namjoon smiles nervously. he’s still thinking about how, when he told donghyuk that seokjin’s dating, his friend just nodded, “i know.”

he’d ask about why donghyuk hasn’t said anything but then he remembers how close the two of them are and deep down, namjoon knows donghyuk was just trying to keep him from heartbreak. sometimes, namjoon’s really grateful for knowing shin donghyuk.

currently, they’re window shopping, or well donghyuk is, trying to find a new sound system for the club, but very few items seem to pique his interest and namjoon wishes donghyuk would walk into a shop finally because he’s actually freezing.

he underdressed, wanting to look halfway decent when donghyuk told him they’re going to a fancy neighborhood, the one with with all the schools for rich kids and the pricey shops. however, donghyuk doesn’t seem lost at all and once again, namjoon wonders just how well he knows donghyuk’s background.

it’s already dark out and his companion shows no intent in walking into any of the stores they’re passing by, rather focusing on looking at the shop windows, so namjoon lets himself zone out, trying to keep his mind off the fact he’s positively freezing.

that’s when, by some divine irony, he spots yoongi.

the boy is standing by the gates of the nearby university, a phone pressed to his ear and he passively stares at the gravel beneath his feet, completely unaware of his surroundings. just by looking at him, namjoon shivers; yoongi’s wearing only a shirt and his uniform jacket. namjoon doesn’t even want to guess how cold yoongi must be.

however, the boy seems unbothered by the cold, lips parting to say something to whoever’s on the other line.

his reply is short and curt and when he stops talking, yoongi shifts, huddles closer into himself to protect from the cold.

even though namjoon has no idea who’s the person yoongi’s talking to, he has this overwhelming urge to walk over there and wrap his arms around yoongi’s smaller body, keep him safe and warm.

even though he still resents him for pointing out seokjin’s relationship to him, namjoon still has a thing for yoongi, and the defeated, almost catatonic expression the older has tugs at namjoon’s heartstrings.

he stands there for quite a while, apparently long enough for donghyuk to call his name; they’re at least a dozen feet away from each other, and donghyuk’s deep voice is barely audible over the sound of traffic.

“namjoon? you coming? cause if you wanna stand in the middle of the street like an idiot that’s fine by me.”

namjoon takes one last look at yoongi, who’s still talking, still as expressionless, and turns around, walking to where donghyuk is, fighting the urge to turn around every few steps.


6:57 pm – yoongi hasn’t been to class this entire week, and it’s already wednesday. he hasn’t even gone to the studio. it’s already the middle of november, and there’s an ominous fog over the city, making everything eerily cozy and wrapped in a thick layer of mystery.

it’s one of those days.

that’s what he tells himself. except this day has lasted since last saturday and yoongi can’t remember when was the last time he had a proper meal, or slept through the entire night without waking up at 4 am, drenched in cold sweat and shivering.

he’s currently sprawled on his bed, feet planted firmly on the floor, bare toes buried into the strands of his fluffy carpet, and there’s music blaring through his headphones, the massive white ones, the ones he prefers due to their quality, the ones his mother told him not to wear outside since they’re pretty unsightly.

the lights in his room are off so he can see through his window better, without the ugly yellow reflection of the light on the glass. even though his apartment is pretty high up, he knows hoping to see stars is futile. all he sees are vague, black skeletons of the neighboring buildings, in all their sharp and unmoving glory.


12:36 am – min yoongi is honestly the last person namjoon expected to see walking through rock bottom’s door, all disoriented and disheveled. it’s thursday and namjoon’s used to seeing yoongi strictly on the weekends, and he wasn’t expecting him for at least a few more weeks.

it’s quite amusing, namjoon thinks, watching yoongi tentatively sit, like someone’s going to scold him for being at a club.

“can i sit here?” he asks, timidly, and a burst of affection roars through namjoon’s chest.

“yeah, the girl who sat there left.” namjoon replies, eyeing him carefully.

“no, i mean….” yoongi trails off, taking a deep breath before continuing, “is it okay if i sit here?”

namjoon leans over the bar, so they’re closer and he doesn’t have to yell over the music, “i don’t own this place, you know.” he tries extra hard to make his tone playful, careful not to scare yoongi off.

“are you mad at me?” yoongi finally asks, looking at namjoon through his fluffy brown bangs. namjoon realizes he has never seen yoongi like this, with messy hair and dark circles under his eyes and a crinkled shirt, a few sizes too big for him.

“why would i be mad?” namjoon rhetorically asks, not moving from his position even when yoongi’s properly seated and their faces are just a few inches apart; they’ve been a lot closer. “because you said seokjin’s dating? it’s not like you lied.”

even though yoongi tries to apologize for that, saying he was drunk, namjoon politely tells him to shut the fuck up, and buys him a drink.

“kim namjoon, are you trying to get into my pants?” yoongi asks, smiling over the brim of his glass and namjoon lifts an eyebrow “what if i was?”

all yoongi gives him as a reply is a smug smirk before he’s downing his glass.


1:29 am – right now, namjoon looks like the best thing yoongi has seen in a while and, no matter that he sees him almost double, yoongi feels a sort of a carnal desire for him.

he thought namjoon would be mad at him, and for some reason, that thought bothered him a lot more than it should. it would be a lie to say that namjoon hasn’t occupied his mind for a bigger portion of the last week and yoongi was making his way to rock bottom without actually thinking about it.

his driver no longer asks questions about yoongi’s sudden newfound affection for the building his father owns a part of but yoongi guesses he suspects it’s not the club yoongi frequents. it’s okay, he’s aware that they pay their drivers a ridiculous amounts of money. driving comes cheap, keeping a mouth shut, not so much.

so, it’s precisely his driver yoongi calls about half an hour later, namjoon in tow, and when the car arrives, they both slide into the back seat. the man driving doesn’t bat an eyelash at yoongi’s surprising choice of companion, simply asking “home?”

when yoongi gives him a nod, the man starts the engine, eyes focused on the road.


2:10 am – yoongi’s fingers are sneaking underneath namjoon’s shirt. he can feel yoongi’s eager gaze on his face and he tries to recall just how much yoongi had to drink. judging by his actions, he’s just a little over tipsy, just enough to give his cheeks a pink tint and his eyes, partially hidden underneath his overgrown bangs, that glossy shine, but nothing over that.

however, it’s out of character for yoongi to be so frisky in public, but namjoon won’t complain about yoongi’s fingers dancing over his abdomen, just above the waist of his jeans.

namjoon shoots him a questioning look when those same pale fingers skim just a bit underneath the waistline, and yoongi gives him the slightest trace of a smirk.

quite frankly, namjoon can’t wait till they get to their destination, his arousal only growing with each passing minute.


2:39 am – namjoon guides yoongi into his own room, gently pushing him down on the bed, pinning him down and yoongi notes how naturally namjoon gets through his apartment.

for some reason, that observation makes him giddy and he wraps his arms around namjoon’s neck as he spreads his legs enough to accommodate namjoon’s hips between them. their kisses are hungry and, even through his drunken stupor, yoongi can feel how needy namjoon is.

when namjoon leans back down, after taking his shirt off, yoongi runs his hands over the smooth expanse of his back, parting from namjoon’s lips, already red with kisses, “you won’t leave again in the morning, will you?”

it makes namjoon lean back a little bit, just far enough to look at yoongi’s face without going cross-eyed at the proximity, “not unless you want me to?”

yoongi tries his hardest to take in how namjoon’s eyes shine in the darkness of his room, how warm his skin is and how much yoongi wants him, tries to imprint that image into his brain so that, when he closes his eyes, it’s all he sees for the rest of his life.

“i want you to stay.” yoongi whispers, as if he’s afraid someone but namjoon would hear it. deep down, he’s afraid of even namjoon hearing it; he’s threading a very dangerous line here, a whole unexplored area of possibilities he closed himself off to waiting for him on the other side.

thankfully, namjoon hears him, and all he answers with is “then i’m staying.” before kissing yoongi again, dragging yoongi down into his own desire before lifting him up into pure bliss.


3:05 am – there’s something ethereal about the way yoongi looks after sex, all worn out and sleepy and cuddly and namjoon purposely fights off sleep just to look at his thin frame, and the skin marred with marks and scratches.

yoongi catches his gaze, a sleepy smile on his lips “what?” to which namjoon does the cheesy thing, mumbling “nothing” and kissing yoongi’s lips chastely, like he wasn’t fucking him into the mattress only ten minutes ago.

“y’know,” yoongi interrupts himself with a yawn, “i always did want to ask you, what do all these mean?” he’s pointing to the tattoos decorating the skin of namjoon’s arms, from his wrists to his shoulders, fingers mapping out the intricate designs.

namjoon shrugs, “it’s just a pattern i saw in this art book. i liked it and gave it to my friend to do all these. they hurt like a bitch, though.”

yoongi mumbles, “i like them.”

it’s obvious he’s barely keeping his eyes open and even before namjoon can explain the design on his left arm, yoongi’s already dozing off, head resting on namjoon’s shoulder, lips slightly parted. to namjoon, it’s a picture perfect moment and he already knows what his next song is gonna be about, whether he wants it or not.


10:43 am – yoongi’s first words after he opens his eyes are “you stayed.”

namjoon’s already awake, looking at yoongi, “yeah, you told me to.”

it’s actually an out of body experience to see namjoon bathed in the morning light, and yoongi tries to savor the sight as much as possible, before namjoon interrupts his train of thought.

“not to sound ungrateful or anything, but don’t you have classes? cause i remember you mentioning you have to be in class at eight in the morning on fridays once.”

yoongi’s surprised namjoon remembered his timetable and he nuzzles his face in namjoon’s warm neck.

“i’m skipping. i haven’t gone at all this week.”

namjoon’s fingers start brushing though yoongi’s messy bedhead hair, “why?”

yoongi shrugs before answering, “i don’t feel like it.”

lifting his eyebrows at that, namjoon seems genuinely surprised, “are you allowed to not feel like going for weeks at a time?”

eyes closing on their own, yoongi’s head hits the pillow again, “no. look, can we talk about something else? i know i’m in deep shit once my parents find out about my little vacation so can we enjoy my freedom while it lasts?”

“of course.” namjoon simply replies and yoongi’s grateful.


6:30 pm – “so, let me get this straight,” hunchul takes a sip of his coffee, although namjoon supposes, with the amount of milk hunchul has put into it, it’s mostly a flavored latte, “you two get together and…” he makes vague yet slightly crude gestures with his hands, “and like you have feelings for him but you aren’t sure? and you two aren’t dating?”

namjoon mulls over what hunchul just said and then nods, “yeah more or less.”

“have you considered just telling him?” hunchul deadpans and namjoon wishes hunchul wasn’t so straightforward and so heterosexual.

“hyung,” he sighs, “that’s an awful idea. i would tell you all the reasons exactly why that’s the worst idea ever but, since we open at nine, i don’t really have the time.”

downing the rest of his coffee flavored milk, hunchul picks up the cup, “i know you think i suck at love but don’t forget, siyeon still hasn’t dumped me.”

namjoon grins, “she won’t ever dump you. she’ll just kill you when she gets bored of you.”

hunchul makes a pained expression and he looks so ridiculous, a disheveled head sprouting from a giant turtleneck doing a very shitty job of trying to hide hickeys generously sprinkled over the skin of hunchul’s neck.

“you, donghyukkie and ikje hyung can joke all you want but in the end, i’m the one dating. you’re the one asking for advice, donghyuk hasn’t gotten laid in over three months and ikje hyung is one snapchat away from a restraining order.”

even though he means it completely well-heartedly, namjoon can’t help but feel a pang of pain shoot through his chest at hunchul’s words. if only telling yoongi was so easy, namjoon would have done it already.

or so he likes to think.


9:17 pm – yoongi has precisely seven new messages on his voice mail. he figures his parents have finally been notified of his unexcused absence at college. it’s not like he’ll let them play any time soon, though and he closes the app instantly, feeling his skin crawl with every second he looks at the unopened messages and tries to guess what they could say.

it’s nothing he hasn’t heard before.


12:35 am – it’s kind of hard to hear yoongi over the blaring of the music in the club, but even through the shitty reception he always has here, namjoon can feel the panic in yoongi’s voice as he begs him to come over. he has never heard, or seen, yoongi like this and it scares him.

not wasting any time, feeling like he’s on autopilot, namjoon goes straight to donghyuk and says “i have to leave early.”

donghyuk lazily looks up at him from getting more glasses under the bar, “but you left yesterday. whatever happened to wons before hoes, dude?” but all it takes is for namjoon to lean in, so donghyuk can see the worry on his face, and say “it’s serious” for donghyuk to tell him to go, wishing him good luck as namjoon walks out into the dancefloor, and from there, out the club.


12:51 am – yoongi’s a mess when he opens the door but namjoon isn’t any better. his shirt is soaked with sweat and his pant legs are wet almost up to the knees with what yoongi guesses is puddle water; yet his face goes pale when he sees yoongi’s puffy, red eyes.

“i’m sorry i called you, i know you were at work and i didn’t want to call you but i didn’t know what to do and i’m really sorry-“

namjoon interrupts yoongi’s hysterical rant with a hug, pressing yoongi’s tear stained face into the hollow of his neck, where his collarbones stand closest.

“hey, it’s okay.”

there’s a small hiccup emerging from yoongi’s throat and then he goes quiet, giving in to namjoon, who leads him back into the apartment and closes the door behind them.


1:13 am – there’s a special kind of beauty yoongi holds when he’s like this, namjoon thinks. it’s an awful thought and namjoon regrets it the second it enters his mind; yoongi’s in pain and it hurts to wonder exactly what went through his head before he called namjoon, but he can’t deny he finds yoongi beautiful right now.

the older boy’s laying on his bed, the same bed namjoon slept in the previous night. the only difference is that now, yoongi’s breathing deeply, eyes closed, as namjoon draws soothing circles into his chest with his finger, fingertips barely touching the fluffy cotton of yoongi’s white t-shirt.

an indefinite amount of time passes, as namjoon concentrates on the pattern he’s making on the white canvas, and he’s interrupted with yoongi’s deep voice, “thanks. for coming, i mean.”

when he looks away from his fingertip’s invisible creation and at yoongi’s face, he finds the other’s already looking at him.

“don’t mention it. you freaked me out, though.”

there’s no use in denying it. it’s obvious in the way his eyes were wild when yoongi opened the door and in the way he ran the last mile and a half, mind going through every possibility of why yoongi called him, crying.

“what even happened?”

it takes yoongi a long time to reply, and even then, it’s just a vague shrug.

“it happens sometimes. i’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

namjoon wants to tell yoongi to stop with the formalities, that what he has witnessed has removed any remaining need for politeness but he doesn’t want to scold yoongi, not after he has had to actually hold him just to get him to stop sobbing uncontrollably.

“what happens sometimes?” he tries, gently.

yoongi’s eyes are closed when he replies, like he can’t bear to face his own reply.

“it all gets too much and i feel like i’m suffocating under the weight of my own life. it sounds stupid.”

for some reason, namjoon think he’s the first person yoongi ever told about this, and he feels strangely grateful for this moment of confiding. however, not even that is enough to diminish the worry for the brown haired boy.

“it’s not stupid.”

yoongi shrugs again, before opening his eyes to look at namjoon, “you staying the night?”

considering namjoon’s already in yoongi’s bed, he was definitely planning to, fully intending to watch over yoongi, but he’s suddenly worried it’s pushing him too much. giving space never hurt anyone.

“can i?” he asks and to his relief, yoongi nods.

“i was hoping you would. go change, though, you’re soaked. there should be something your size in the hallway closet.”

namjoon does as he’s told, rummaging through dress shirt after dress shirt and it takes him a full five minutes to find an extra large shirt and longer sweatpants.

when he comes back to yoongi’s room, changed and warm, yoongi’s fighting sleep, his eyelids heavy. namjoon crawls into bed next to him after turning off the lights and he can’t help but think, would dating yoongi feel like this?

falling asleep beside him, holding him, going out on dates, all the things namjoon found cheesy before now seem cute and he asks himself if he’s already so in love.

namjoon doesn’t consider himself to be a relationship kind of guy but not even helping yoongi through one of his panic attacks seems terrifying to him. in fact, he wants to be there, to help him, every single time.

“yoongi?” he calls out, hoping he didn’t wait for too long, and now yoongi’s asleep.

“what?” yoongi’s voice is rough with sleepiness, but he seems awake enough for namjoon to continue.

“next time you feel like that, no matter where you are, i want you to call me.”

he’s met with nothing but heavy silence, and he can almost hear the exhausted gears of yoongi’s consciousness spinning.

“promise me you’ll call me, every time.”

there’s another pause of dull silence and he thinks he might have overestimated yoongi’s level of wakefulness but then yoongi replies, “fine. i promise.”

namjoon thinks that’s that but he’s thanked with a peck to his lips, and then he can hear yoongi dozing off. he follows soon after.


10:45 am – afraid of his parents’ reaction if he prolongs his impromptu vacation, yoongi goes back to class on monday, and his teacher speaks on and on, as if yoongi never left.

halfway through the lecture he isn’t paying attention to, yoongi pulls out his phone from his bag. he opens the camera app and snaps a picture of himself, making a silly face and sends it to his and namjoon’s kakaotalk chatroom. namjoon isn’t online, but just by seeing the hangul of his name on screen makes yoongi feel better.


10:52 am – namjoon’s awake, something that’s strange by itself at this early in the morning. not only that, but he’s writing. usually inspiration never comes to him before at least ten pm, but after spending almost the entire weekend with yoongi, namjoon feels like the words are bursting out of his pencil on their own, and it’s a chase to catch them all on paper.

the winter is already in full swing outside, and namjoon’s apartment is a special kind of chilly, so namjoon’s still in bed, his thick notebook on the blanket covering his lap as namjoon scrawls away.

his phone buzzed a few minutes ago but namjoon’s way too into writing to be bothered to roll over and check the notification.

it’s only fifteen minutes later that he puts his pen down, his curiosity demanding he looks at his phone right now and namjoon finally takes the small device and unlocks it.

what greets him in his and yoongi’s chatroom is a picture of yoongi making a face, sticking his tongue out in a pouty way. namjoon saves the pic, after commenting on how cute yoongi is, and, after looking at it for a few moments, sets it as his wallpaper.


6:58 pm – the dreaded meeting with his parents finally comes around. it’s a wednesday and despite it being barely seven, the sky outside is completely dark. yoongi tries to focus on the darker clouds rolling in as he shuts out his mother’s voice, scolding him.

everything she’s telling him, he’s already heard; how he needs to keep his position in college, how much the family’s overall image is important, not only for saving face but also for his father’s business. she mentions how lucky he is, being born into such wealth and power and yoongi feels anything but lucky. sometimes, he longs for the freedom namjoon has.

the thought of namjoon is what gets him through another half an hour of his mother’s sharp words.

yoongi think he’ll have to thank him with a few kisses.


11:22 pm – there’s an open mic night that friday, something rock bottom has never hosted without featuring namjoon, their very own star and true to this tradition, namjoon’s leaning on the stool, mic in hand.

“everyone,” he starts, still unaccustomed to the way his voice booms around the club. even after all the shows he’s done, he still gets surprised hearing his own voice so loud, “this is a new song. i wrote it just recently and it’s different from what i usually do, but it has a lot of sentimentality and personality. tell me if you like it.”

it’s blatantly obvious who this song is actually about, he thinks, but then he remembers not everyone knows about him and yoongi. the story tells of a caged bird, wanting to fly, yet being too scared of the dark outside the cage to actually try to escape.

namjoon has to close his eyes on the second verse, focusing on pouring out all his emotion into the words’ delivery. when he opens them, yoongi’s standing in the crowd, dumbfounded.

namjoon shoots him a small smile when he finishes, followed by a pretty loud round of applause. even though hearing an applause especially for himself makes namjoon’s heart beat in his ears, he’s mostly concerned with how yoongi feels about his latest work.

yoongi doesn’t smile back.


11:29 am – “wow.” is all yoongi says and his tone of voice is a dead giveaway he’s not happy, or at least, not as happy namjoon hoped to make him.

“wow.” namjoon says too, experiencing a loss of words. he has no idea where yoongi stands and he doesn’t want to say anything to worsen his potentially already fucked situation.

“is that what you think of me?” is all it takes for namjoon to realize yoongi’s actually hurt.

“do you really think i’m trapped?”

he looks so small, shuffling into himself, to take up less space, like namjoon has seen him do whenever he’s unsure he should even be standing in his spot.

“no” is what namjoon tries to say but yoongi finally looks up at him, and namjoon can see that his warm, dark eyes are rimmed with unspilled tears. something in namjoon breaks and he feels like has been hit in the chest, hard, and all the air has escaped his lungs.

“i didn’t realize all you felt for me was pity.” yoongi says simply, but it’s enough.

namjoon tries to walk over to him, to hug him, tell him he has it wrong, and that all namjoon wanted to do is show the world how beautiful min yoongi is, inside and outside.

yoongi gives him a long, cold stare and with that, he’s out the backstage door, leaving namjoon standing there wondering why he can never seem to do the right thing.


9:42 pm – yoongi hasn’t left his apartment in what seems forever. he occasionally goes to class here and there, but his piano remains forgotten, and he supposes it’s for the better. nothing he plays could be good now, he figures.

the tv in his living room plays nothing but christmas movies and end of the year idol stages, typical for the end of december and he idly flips through all the channels twice, nothing really grabbing his attention. he faces this problem a lot lately.

his mom calls to check up on him, asking him if he’s been eating well and going to class, making sure he isn’t making any trouble, and asks if he would like to stop by the club after class, to which he says he doesn’t really feel like it. it’s not like she was forcing him, but yoongi’s ears are trained enough to hear the displeasure in his mother’s voice as she says it’s okay.

mostly nothing is okay now, and yoongi tells himself he’s fine but he goes to bed every night and wakes up every morning with thoughts of a certain blonde barista.

those thoughts make him happy for a few seconds but then he recalls he hasn’t seen namjoon in around a month and that their last encounter went a lot worse than expected, because of yoongi and he rubs his eyes, trying to clear his mind.

it never works.


2:09 am – there’s a foreign pair of lips on namjoon’s neck and instead of giving in, all he can think about is yoongi.

he’s still in rock bottom, a party in full swing, and the music is too loud for his thoughts to dissipate so easily. the boy he hooked up with looks his type; brown, fluffy hair and a lanky body, but he could never compare to the original in namjoon’s mind.

it’s the thought of yoongi seeing him right now, and how it would break his heart that makes namjoon push the guy off “wait, shit, stop.”

the guy looks confused, “what?” and namjoon sees he’s already pitching a small tent when he moves away.

“stop, get the fuck off” namjoon says, voice unforgiving and rough with certainty.

luckily, the guy doesn’t give him much shit for the sudden change of heart and he slides off namjoon’s lap, but not before giving him a major stink eye and calling him “an indecisive asshole.”

it’s nothing namjoon doesn’t already know.


12:00 am – yoongi spends his new year eve alone, cooped up in his apartment, watching the new james bond movie, only halfway paying attention to the screen.

he isn’t even aware it’s new years until he checks his phone for the time and see the year has changed in his date and he smiles a bit.

“happy new year, yoongi. have a good one.”


12:00 am – namjoon spends his new years with his coworkers, in a private party in rock bottom, halfway across town. only donghyuk’s friends, most of which already work there, are present, along with their plus ones of choice.

donghyuk has a skinny boy as his plus one, and literally no one namjoon asked has seen him before, but donghyuk seems to be trying to get into his pants and namjoon doesn’t pry into his friend’s one night stands. hunchul made siyeon tag along and even namjoon has to admit it’s kind of sickly cute how she looks pissed off and generally uninterested at everything, except when she looks at hunchul. then she looks like a mix of all that, but in a loving way. ikje brought a blonde girl and even through their constant banter, namjoon can tell they’re dating. sungkyum was almost two hours late and brought his dogs.

namjoon brought no one. he always thought he’d end up at this party, seokjin’s hand in his but he remembers seokjin’s probably with his raven haired boyfriend. to his surprise, he finds he doesn’t really care; it doesn’t hurt him at all. thinking of yoongi still hurts, though.

thankfully, donghyuk, already tipsy, yells “happy new year” into namjoon’s ear, and stops his train of thought, for a while, at least.


1:31 pm – once his mother makes him see her, she of course has an envelope.

yoongi has seen a thousand of envelopes like that, and whenever he saw one, he knows that the next week, or at the very least, the week after that, he’ll be spending in a foreign country, often overseas, performing at an event or for some high classed friends of his mother’s he never got to know.

“i haven’t been practicing.” is the first thing he says. truthfully, he’d be honest and say he doesn’t feel like playing anymore but he supposes that would require him to ease her into the conversation and he doesn’t feel like making small talk right now.

he doesn’t miss the flash of vexation that crosses her features like a haunting shadow before it’s gone, her elegant smile gracing her face yet again, “that’s fine, darling. i’m sure you’ve mastered everything by now.”

as he sits down, she hands him the envelope, all proud and proper and yoongi wants to scream at her to stop with the act, but as usual, he doesn’t.

“and you’ll show everyone just how good you play, in england.”

his mother takes a good look at him, at his crumpled clothes and tousled hair and clucks her tongue, “but you have to get a haircut and some fitting clothes, you look awful. yoongi, are you listening to me?”

nodding just to show her he’s mentally present, he mumbles, “yeah, i guess.”

sometimes, that works and it gets her off his case but that’s not the case today. she continues remarking his appearance and yoongi zones out after she starts mentioning how she saw a perfect suit in a store she frequents. yoongi is yet again reminded that his mother simply doesn’t take no for an answer.


5:44 pm – he actually ends up seeing seokjin.

namjoon’s leaving the nearby mall, having bought hairdye since his roots have been getting too visible and he took a day off just to redye his hair, then to maybe watch a movie.

he has had the new terminator downloaded for ages, just sitting there in the downloads folder on his laptop, and he decides to watch it tonight, waiting for his hair to dry when he spots him.

yoongi really wasn’t lying when he said seokjin’s boyfriend is cute. he looks babyfaced and too cutesy for namjoon’s taste, but he supposes he’s the kind of guy a person like seokjin would be into. they’re holding hands and his boyfriend is talking animatedly about something, seokjin carefully listening as they huddle closer for warmth, before entering the mall and namjoon stares at them for quite a while, until they’re out of sight.

when an angry driver honks at him, namjoon realizes he’s standing in the middle of the street and promptly starts moving again, taking long strides towards his small apartment.


5:53 pm – his mother actually ends up getting him the suit.

it’s a dark gray suit with a matching light dress shirt. he looks like an adult in it but doesn’t feel much older as he’s currently having it modified slightly in the spacious, bright room.

his reflection stares back at him and yoongi doesn’t move for the longest time, until he spots a tall, blonde boy pass by the store, clad in black.

heart suddenly in his ears, he blinks quickly to focus his sleepy eyes on the passerby but the second he does, the boy is already gone. yoongi takes a few moments to figure out the person was too pale and too polished to be namjoon, but it’s enough to make his heart hurt.

he takes a look at his mother, chatting on her phone, probably making reservations for after their flight, scheduled for just a little before midnight tonight, and excuses himself, heading for the dressing room.


9:18 pm – as promised to himself, namjoon lets the movie play on his laptop, getting himself snacks as the intro music blares from the small speakers.

he shoves a few buttered popcorns into his mouth, chewing loudly as he sprawls down on the couch, unceremoniously kicking the pile of his clean, un-ironed clothes onto the floor to make more room.

a few minutes later, he’s completely immersed in the movie.


9:20 pm – yoongi practically runs into rock bottom, eyes frantically searching for the familiar mop of blonde hair. he didn’t have the patience to wait for the elevator so he ran up the stairs for seven floors and his legs are killing him.

trying to regain his breath, yoongi tries to scan the entire room, realizing just a little bit too late the club isn’t even open yet. a guy approaches him, tall and pretty huge, and yoongi unintentionally gulps as the guy asks “can i help you?”

still out of breath, yoongi manages to ask “is namjoon here?”

the guy seems to relax a bit at yoongi’s words, probably content knowing yoongi isn’t here to rob them, “he took a night off.”

“i need his address” leaves yoongi’s lips even before he can think about what to say next but the guy shakes his head, “no way, i can’t give out personal information easily like that.”

just when yoongi considers begging, a guy walks by them, holding a crate of beer bottles, and puts them down, a stern look in his eyes, “donghyuk, stop being a dick and tell yoongi namjoon’s address.”

the fact that his name is yoongi obviously means something to this donghyuk, because soon he’s taking a small paper and scribbling down something on it. at the same time, yoongi’s phone rings and he lets it ring, adding it to the other six missed calls he has. his mother can wait.

donghyuk gives the paper with the address written on it to yoongi with a smile, “tell namjoon he owes me and ikje a big one.”

yoongi doesn’t even have the time to think about this before he’s out the door yet again.


9:51 pm – namjoon’s doorbell rings just as the action gets good so he rolls his eyes, deciding to not get up. it’s probably just his boring neighbor or someone selling shit namjoon definitely does not need. however, when the ringing gets too loud to ignore, namjoon gets up, annoyed, heading towards the front door, already determined to give whoever’s bothering him hell.

what he finds when he opens the door, however, is an armful of yoongi.

his mind stops working for a millisecond and then yoongi’s hugging him, panting heavily and namjoon tries to reason with himself, “yoongi?”

yoongi moves away, and a small part of namjoon regrets the distance, “i’m sorry, i just had to see you. i’m sorry i blew up on you and i’m sorry i was a dick and i just really fucking like you.”

the first thing namjoon thinks about is how this is the first time he’s heard yoongi swear outside the bedroom and then it’s dawning on him. min yoongi likes him.

“yoongi, i-” he tries but yoongi interrupts him, “please tell me you like me back, lie to me, whatever, just. please like me back because i’m really in love with you.”

namjoon inhales, trying to not get lost in everything that yoongi has said, and the first question that comes to mind is “did you fucking run here?”


9:55 pm – “did you fucking run here?”

out of all the things yoongi predicted will leave namjoon’s mouth, this one was the least possible.

“no.” he says automatically, lying through his teeth, remembering his mother’s lessons about how seeming eager and needy is never seen as attractive.

“liar.” namjoon deadpans, “you do that thing with your eyes when you lie. i can’t believe you ran here. how did you even get my address.”

yoongi shrugs, still standing in the middle of the hallway, “donghyuk said you owe him and ikje a big favor. look, are you gonna let me in or not?”

namjoon moves aside so yoongi can enter and then they’re standing in a small, cramped hallway but yoongi can’t focus on anything but namjoon.

“your hair is, like, extra blonde today.”

namjoon stares at him, “yeah, i dyed it like two hours ago. anyway, can you repeat the part where you said you really like me?”

yoongi’s this close to passing out and he’s sure his face is as red as a tomato, “no. you should have listened the first time. am i getting an answer or not? i ran here, you know. i deserve an answer.”

it’s an almost automatic reaction for namjoon to lean in and kiss yoongi. his lips are even softer than namjoon remembers and yoongi leans into the kiss naturally.

“how’s that for a reply?”

yoongi just punches namjoon’s shoulder lightly, before his fingers dig into the cotton of namjoon’s shirt to pull him in for another kiss.


11:36 pm – due to his no-hookups-in-the-apartment policy, namjoon is pretty sure yoongi’s the first visitor to see namjoon’s bedroom.

granted, he isn’t doing much seeing, his eyes closed as namjoon fucks him into the mattress but it’s still a nice thought.

there’s something bittersweet about the fact yoongi is the first person to mean so much to namjoon but it feels alright.

it feels better than alright, when yoongi comes between their naked, sweaty bodies and pulls namjoon in for a hungry, needy, openmouthed kiss and namjoon knows he won’t last much longer either.

it’s only later, when they’re laying next to each other on namjoon’s small bed and yoongi complains about namjoon’s chest being sticky, does namjoon propose the idea of showering together.

yoongi might not know about how sacred his bathroom is to namjoon, but there are many things yoongi doesn’t know about namjoon. however, namjoon is more than okay with letting yoongi be the first in breaking his routine.

he’s more than okay with yoongi being his last, too.