Chapter Text
1. Namjin. Angst, Hurt, Comfort. PG
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Seokjin was worried. He looked down at his watch and read 7:14 pm.
Namjoon was never this late.
The weather was pleasant today too; the sun was out, only a few wispy clouds dotting the cerulean sky. Even if it had been raining, he wouldn’t have blamed the other’s lateness on weather. They’d met in raincoats and umbrellas, or adorned in scarves and gloves – nothing had stopped them before.
He fidgeted on the worn park bench, scuffing his shoes on the pavement and trying not to think of why the other might be late.
Jin depended on these meetings. His life wasn’t that boring, but sometimes these meet-ups ended up being the highlight of his day. Simply talking to Joon put him in a better mood.
Namjoon was kind. He was self-deprecating and witty and sort of intense. He paid attention when Seokjin spoke, focused intently on his words as if they really mattered to him. It was like free therapy. Namjoon was the best friend Jin had ever had, seeming to actually care about his day and his well-being.
No one else in his life gave him that much un-divided attention. His parents only ever threw sharp words, half-listened when he tried to speak to them. They were there, but they never actually took part in his life. They weren’t present.
He looked down at his watch again, the little hands telling him it was now 7:23. He sighed and stood up. Seokjin looked around, swiveling his head, hoping to catch sight of Namjoon’s familiar gangly figure. He only saw a few elementary-aged kids climbing on the playground. His shoulders slumped and he started walking out of the park, making his way home. He made it ten feet out of the park entrance before something came barreling into him from behind.
He ate shit.
Jin found himself sprawled out on the concrete, cursing at the scrapes on his hands. He looked up and saw Joon above him, heaving, hands on his knees and trying to catch his breath. It looked as if he had sprinted the whole way here.
“Sorry… I’m… late,” Namjoon got out between breaths.
“It’s okay. I would’ve preferred a more gentle greeting though.” Seokjin replied, standing up and brushing the gravel from his palms.
“My sister passed away, last night,” Namjoon blurted out.
Jin froze. He watched as Joon’s harsh pants slowly turned into rough sobs, wracking his frame. His arms came up to wrap around himself, trying to keep it together, trying not to lose it right here on this very public sidewalk.
He knew she had cancer. Jin had met her once, a long time ago. Her little bald head and lively personality had been endearing. Sorrow and regret washed over him as he realized he’d never see her again.
Seokjin wasn’t really one for words; he wasn’t a person people went to for comfort. But Joon needed him right now. Namjoon was always strong, always reliable. His friend had come to him at his most vulnerable, and Seokjin did the only thing he could think of.
He pulled Namjoon into an embrace, hugging him fiercely. His friend, his best friend, sobbed into his shoulder. The fabric on his sleeve grew damp as they stood there. They stayed like that for a while.
“Come over. I’ll make you some tea,” Jin finally murmured.
“Sorry for getting your shirt wet.” Namjoon said between staggering breaths.
“It’s fine. I have other shirts.”
Seokjin backed up and started walking toward his house, turning his head to make sure Joon was following him. He was.