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Seokjin admits he spends way too much time in this little tucked away café in the middle of Seoul. However, he doesn’t regret it one bit. It’s always amusing and entertaining. The only time it’s quiet is when it’s closing for the night, and every day he sits alone in his corner booth where he can watch over the entire café with ease.

The more people in the café, the better for him. Increased chances of opportunities to watch their lives play out as long as they are in the building. The waiters busily rush around, taking orders, delivering and chatting with a customer on occasion when time permits. Then the customers themselves that range from the dullness of a teaspoon to the excitement of the galaxy.

And every person that steps foot in the café- even for but a moment to grab a quick drink and dart off again, are his muses. The more he watches and learns, the better characters they become.

He scans the more than usual bubbly crowd, fixing his gentle gaze on a regular. A young man, maybe at the age of eighteen or so with chubby and squishy cheeks. His eyes keep darting around nervously, hand clutching the usual drink he gets, (that Seokjin has yet to figure out the kind.) He tenses at each person passing by him, knuckles going white from gripping the glass harshly as he sinks deeper and deeper into the booth cushion.

Seokjin’s fingers fly through his baby blue journal to find a clean page in the appropriate section titled ‘tense teens’. With his favorite pen, (second favorite as he can’t find his pink one now, probably Taehyung’s fault.) he stains the upper left side with a six, Chubby Cheeks being the sixth muse since he found the hidden café.

Chubby Cheeks is looking around more than usual today. Seeming to be waiting for someone. The longer time goes on, the more anxious he becomes, and growing angrier by the way his neck is sort of red at this point.

The doorbell rings softly, nearly drowned out by the different voices exchanging words. Only Seokjin himself, an employee and Chubby Cheeks notice the entrance of another person. This one is another young man; appearing to be the same age as Chubby Cheeks. Seokjin begins to scribble down less than readable words as he watches the scene play out.

The new boy, who kind of reminds me of Peter Pan for some odd reason, walks over to Chubby Cheeks. Who in turn, looks up with relief spreading across his face at first, then irritation. Despite that they exchange what could be soft words before Peter Pan sinks down beside Chubby Cheeks, eloping him into a hug and kissing his temple.

Seokjin pauses a moment, resting his hand while watching the young boys with a knowing smile.

Crazy stalker me thinks Chubby Cheeks is in love. Peter Pan is head over heels for him.

His bubble is popped as one of the waiters- Jihoon, walks over, who is cutely short and has a temper with some of his coworkers but is extremely nice and polite. (Seokjin swears he saw him chasing a friend with a guitar once as he was walking down the street.) Jihoon places Seokjin’s coffee in front of him, and a slice of strawberry cake next to it. Seokjin mumbles a quick ‘thank you’, flipping the journal closed and praying to whatever god is out there that he didn’t see the notes over Chubby Cheeks and Peter Pan. Jihoon offers a smile and walks away, bringing in a calm period to settled over the entire room. Seokjin rolls his shoulder back and picks up the fork, happily enjoying his cake while watching in peace.

Seokjin really isn’t a stalker- it completely looks like it though. He’s a writer of sorts. Only of sorts because it’s more of a thing whenever he isn’t working. Only ever able to when he is in the café, it’s easiest there. His ‘real job’ as his parents put it, (even though they really don’t think it is a real job, they were more accepting of this than his other idea) is working at a fancy restaurant as a chef. It’s what he went to school for, what he’s loved since he was a child, it’s what he’s always dreamed about. And damn he is doing it. But his quieter side, hidden in fact, always wanted to be a writer. When he was a wee boy, (yes, he admits he was small, as he grew to be sort of tall that he is very happy with) he enjoyed writing about different worlds and people he could only meet in his head. He wanted to create his own universe where he controlled what happened and how things ended. It’s a feeling that grew as he did since his own life hasn’t gone the way he had planned it to thus far.

His story won’t ever be the best, he accepts that fact and is completely ok with it. He doesn’t want to write a prize-winning novel. Merely a place to leave his world for others to possibly enjoy. But to have that, he needs something only the living can give him. Something outside his brain to help him create the puzzle pieces for his masterpiece.

It’s his muses of course.

You see, to have an amazing story, first must come the over-the-top brilliant characters. They are the train tracks that the plot engine runs on. It’s the characters that make the story. Not necessarily the plot. You could have the best plot in the world, million-dollar winning story, but if you make the worst possible characters, it won’t work. The characters sell the story by their design and ability to connect with different readers. Their ability to prove something, and to live in the reader’s mind. The characters need to seem real, and not a mere string of words. Not a stick figure, they need to have curves and edges, bumps along the way, have different shades and sides, a bundle of complete chaos where they can’t be predictable. They need to be real for the story to work.  At least in his opinion which very possibly could be unpopular.  

So, that is exactly why Seokjin spends most of his days after he gets off work, in his sort-of-claimed booth at the café. ‘Character building’ as he refers to it as, (common people call it people watching, and from Yoongi, ‘stalking 2.0’) and it’s his favorite hours of the day. With the data he’s gathered thus far, he has developed interesting characters, be them evil or good, or somewhere in the middle. Some act exactly as they appear, others act the complete opposite. And with some, if you squint hard enough, the real inspirations can be seen.

All from everyday humans who don’t have clue a character is based on them.  Only going to the café to get a drink. It’s never a dull day.

The next day is always more intriguing than the last.

And so far, this day hasn’t been a drag in the slightest.

A young woman helping her aging grandmother inside, a single dad with his two rowdy children, a group of five college girls it seems to be cramming for exams, and a love story floating between different employees. All of them are entertaining muses, each having their own flavor and punch, but…

None of these are his favorite.

At the mere thought of that muse, his lips twitched up into a grin. Seokjin never wishes for him to automatically smile but his emotions betray him. He scowls and takes another scoop of his cake, chewing away his smile. All the while his free hand reaches inside his bag, retrieving another journal, this cover plain white and sort of beat up around the edges after how much it’s been opened and closed at this point. He flips it open to the first page and sighs at how stupid he is.

Seokjin’s favorite muse is the one he so conveniently has a whole separate journal for.


#1 – Dimples

December 7th , 2014


At first sight, with long legs that could reach to Australia and back, those dark piercing eyes, and wearing nothing but black, he appears cold. But as soon as he smiled at the employees upon entering, he’s the opposite. Dimples are the first thing, or at least they stand out the most. They are way, way too cute. Cute enough to want to poke at that. Hair tussled as his slender tan fingers run through his golden locks, making his dark brown and tired eyes pop with life. He carries a bag, slung across his shoulder and makes his way towards the opposite side of the café. Bag is emptied onto the table- a laptop, three journals, a book, a few pens, headphones and his phone. Sweat beads down his forehead with nimble fingers hidden underneath the long sleeves of his sweater. He writes, and writes, and writes. He’s still writing when it’s time to close. Is it possible for someone to be this cute?


That first and beginning entry, (certainly not the longest one in here,) was a year and a half ago. Most of the time, it feels longer than that. Not to mention how ridiculous Seokjin believes it to be that the man and himself are in the café this much at the same time. He skims through the next couple of entries; times when Dimples would only stay for a mere moment to grab a coffee, other days when he would be accompanied by a group of rowdy friends. Most days though, he is alone, and he really looks alone. A bubble around him that he created because someone or something hurt him so bad that he feels like he doesn’t belong. He doesn’t allow others to enter, to really get near him. A far away gaze in his intriguing eyes, that look to hold an adventure that he doesn’t let happen because he might not think he deserves to experience happiness. Throughout the whole journal, in nearly every entry Seokjin’s ever written, a small note is stuck at the end, Lonely, poor Dimples.

After a while, Dimples had begun to look around too, for reasons Seokjin doesn’t know. On accident, while observing a young and blossoming relationship between the café workers, Seokjin caught Dimples gazing directly at him, through several people even. Only when Seokjin looked back at him did it get embarrassing. He counted five seconds of pure embarrassment. Seokjin quickly looked down with his pen moving fast.


#35 – Dimples

February 12th , 2015


Dimples is acting odd. He isn’t glued to whatever he is writing as usual. Looking around and watching others, gazing outside. Eyes aren’t dazed, so he isn’t bored. In fact, he appears very focused. I’ll get back to this if anything happens. ~

It happened not even five minutes later.

Made eye contact with Dimples!

And barely three seconds after that…

Clumsy, very clumsy. Face turned tomato red and knocked over his drink after eye contact.


Not long after that, Seokjin’s eyes naturally began floating to Dimples if he let his focus slip. It points his eyes to what, in this case who- he is most curious about. It’s a natural thing really, of all the people he watches, Dimples gives him the best data. Sometimes it feels like he’s watching a TV series, a different episode each time that continues to entertain him with the plot unfolding. And normally, Seokjin’s enjoyment runs out of most shows quickly.

But not Dimples.

When Seokjin sees the tall and lanky nerd, it feels like seeing him for the first time all over again. Yes, he realizes and admits it. Mostly so Taehyung and Yoongi can shut up about it, otherwise he would have buried the truth in a chest and thrown it in the sea. He has a small crush on Dimples. Hint hint at small. Because similar to all his other crushes, it will go away. Time will take the man out of his heart for good. It saddens him to an extent, because he can see himself with Dimples. Sees himself completely falling head over heels for him. The two going on dates to the park, fancy restaurants. Cuddling in bed together, Seokjin cooking and coddling him, and possibly the other way around. Seeing them married and growing old together. Maybe in another life they were together, the past haunting him with what he once had, or what he could have. But like every other feeling, it will fade given time.

He can be sad for a while and that’s alright. Seokjin only asks for a little more time to write Dimples into a character that he can see once the real one is gone.  


#59 – Dimples

April 21st , 2015

He walked in with a shit eating grin on his face, does the usual of go to the booth, laptop out, headphones in, mouthing words as he writes. Seems to be acting more secretive, and if he really wanted to hide that grey hair of his, he needs to make sure to check and see if the beanie hides it well before leaving his home. He looks damn good with what I can see though. He taps his pencil on the page, seeming frustrated as he bits his lip and absentmindedly reaches for his glass- How does he always manage to break something? He’s a destructive gentle giant without meaning to be.  


Seokjin is a patient man, he basically lives in the damn café. Figured out and asked all the employees’ names. Hoseok is the manager; a bubbling and lively man, always flashing a smile, (and looks like a close friend of Dimples) Then the younger ones who all seem to be close to one another, Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Mingyu, Soonyoung and Jihoon (don’t tell the others but Jihoon is Seokjin’s favorite). And among those, each have platonic and romantic bonds with each other. All of them together is such a cute thing to witness.

But his patience with this certain issue is chopping away at him.


What in the absolute hell is his name?

Yeah, he could ask Hoseok, but that really wouldn’t do. Seokjin would sound like an outright stalker as he jots the name in his journal. Maybe Hoseok would do them both a favor of banning Seokjin from the café.

Back to the damn name. Keep on track Seokjin.

His name could be interesting. Or common. Or completely foreign and odd. He can’t possibly have a name that doesn’t suit him. It needs sound like him, right? His name must be soft and gentle, flowing together naturally as it rolls of the tongue but can trip up at times (less than him of course because let’s be real, when he tripped on the door somehow, it was the cutest fucking thing Seokjin’s ever seen. And no, he didn’t laugh. Poor Dimples was embarrassed enough.)  

What name is perfect for Dimples? If Seokjin ever finds out what his name is, and it isn’t the absolute most perfect name then Seokjin will name him. He will go out and purposely get one of those baby name books and study it until he finds the perfect fitting name. God, even to himself he sounds fucking looney when it comes to Dimples.  


#81 – Dimples

June 19 th , 2015

Dimples and friends came in rather loudly. Sat down and ordered, Hoseok messing with them as usual. Whatthefuckhishairisfuckingpinkishetryingtokillmebcifsodoitnow Fuck you Dimples, I swear to god I should be over you by now- Dear god now he is dancing and please he is worse than me. The moron fell and it’s the cutest sight- fuck he looked over! Why do you betray me emotions I didn’t ask for this shitstorm. Back on track… he somehow ripped his sleeve off while sitting back down in the booth and his two little friends won’t leave him alone. Another Chubby Cheeks who is very sweet based off what I see of him, Baby Face who acts like a sarcastic ass and a dick most of the time but he does care a lot for Dimples. And Hoseok joining in on the fun as he brings over their drinks. The two younger boys leave after a while, they said something about dance practice as they exited. Dimples watches them go, eyes growing sadder and sadder after a while. He leans his head on the table and doesn’t move for a while, face planted on whatever he was writing. IS HE DEAD- oh god nvm he just snored very loudly. When he woke up whatever he wrote blended from the paper onto his face and nobody told him after he left. Poor, lonely Dimples </3


After that, it had come to Seokjin’s attention, that concerning Dimples, he was now a complete stalker. He shouldn’t want to know what he likes to eat or his favorite drink. Shouldn’t want to know what kind of clothing he’s into, because all he ever really wears is black and it’s concerning. Does he not have color in his life? Maybe he is colorblind so he goes with black so he doesn’t have to match.

Seokjin shouldn’t want to know his age. Because what if Dimples is somehow in high school? Or maybe ten years older yet looks very young? Dimples might not even be into guys so Seokjin set himself up for failure again by falling for another useless cause. He could be in a relationship, a long distance one or married for that fact.


#101 – Dimples

September 12th , 2015

Dimples is crying. It seems like it had been going on for a while. Eyes blotchy and red, lips still trembling. Hair a fumbled mess with a busted lip, bleeding and bruised. He’s not even wearing a coat yet it’s downpouring outside. He doesn’t make it to his regular booth, plopping down in the closest empty one and begins shaking. He stays like this for a while, Hoseok tries to approach but is waved off and sent away with sagging shoulders. What in the world happened?


Seokjin did something that night he didn’t know he had the courage to do. Dimples needed space and comfort at the same time. Physical contact he would shun away, but clearly, he needed it in not a human form. Seokjin wouldn’t be able to do it himself. So, he beckoned Hoseok over to his table, whispering in a low voice with his eyes barely leaving Dimples. “Can you give that man whatever drink he usually gets? Or something to soothe him? Put it on my tab and wait until after I leave to give it to him.”

Hoseok looked like a deer in headlights, freezing in his place with eyes going back and forth between Dimples and Seokjin. “Of course,” He says after a second, “He will be better after receiving-”

“No, you mustn’t tell him it was me,” Seokjin had shut his laptop, stowed it away and was shoving the last of his journals in his bag. The strap already slung over his bag so he could run out, “Promise me that?” Hoseok’s smile went away, replaced by a confused wonder. The waiter merely nods and walks away.

Seokjin ran out in the next minute, and didn’t go back to the café till a week after that incident.

Seeing Dimples destroyed shattered his already chipped heart. Who hurt him? Who destroyed him? Why did they have to do it? The poor flower looked to be withering away at a rapid pace.


#142 – Dimples

December 7th , 2015

It’s officially been a year since he first appeared. An anniversary of sorts for us that only I know about. Though he is a fool, who in their right mind wears a tank top in the dead of winter while it’s snowing? He sits in the same booth, orders the same drink and does the same thing. Though he is wearing more colors. A soft green tank with some god-awful pants, are they… blue?? No- shit he noticed me watching him, and he looks pissed.

Sadly, this very important and secret anniversary of sorts gets third wheeled as Taehyung decided to tag along once his classes let out. Seokjin’s focus of character development was cut because of how Taehyung kept pulling at him for attention. Considering it is Taehyung, who already is clingy enough without the necessary hand on Seokjin’s thigh and the brunette’s head nuzzled in Seokjin’s neck. Nearly all the employees were convinced that they were dating.

Seokjin couldn’t help but laugh because no, he would not date Taehyung. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the kid. But Taehyung is a friend, not a lover. (Also, not his type but don’t let Taehyung hear that or he will whine about it for weeks.)

“Oh, is that Dimples guy here you talk about?” Taehyung’s smirking lips nearly get smacked off his face by how fast Seokjin’s hand flew around to hush the kid. “So, he is here.” Taehyung still manages to mumble, mischievous eyes flittering around the room till of course, he finds Dimples and stares him down who was already watching them. Seokjin shoved his belongings into his bag and manages to throw Taehyung over his shoulder and carry him out before he can go over to Dimples and do something that will surely get them both killed.

With his back turned, Seokjin didn’t see the sad eyes of Dimples as he was leaving. Taehyung did and smirked even more. His plan had worked. Per usual.

Seokjin places his fork down onto the now cake-free plate; going to re-read all those entries gets to him. A part of him feels like he’s grown with Dimples, watched him change slightly to be more Dimples- if that’s possible. It’s a calming feeling to look over the past, saddening but comforting. And now he flips to the next clean page, readying it for Dimples who is certain to come in today. He wasn’t here yesterday, and Seokjin wasn’t here for the few days before that, they are bound to cross now.


#257 – Dimples

June 4th , 2016


He scribbles the number and date, dropping the pen and shutting the journal. By now, all his characters are pretty much done, and fit into the plot perfectly. He opens his laptop and finds the beginning of the story, along with his character document to make sure each role is going nicely. The main characters have been introduced and now for the story to begin. He shuffles around to find his earbuds and hits whatever playlist pops up first.

Diving head first into his world, he continues to craft, mold and color it to his liking.

An hour or so later, Dimples stumbled in. Seokjin being kind of glad as he doesn’t know how he wants to form the scene he had gotten to just yet. He’s glad for the distraction and pulls the Dimples journal into his lap, removing an ear bud to listen. He didn’t know he missed the deep yet soft voice till Dimples whined about stubbing his toe on the door. The poor thing is always getting hurt.

Seokjin writes down Dimples appearance, soft baby blue t-shirt, black jeans, and those fake hipster glasses he always wears. Hair back to blond now and hidden under the beanie as usual. Though what the fuck are those sho-

The vibration of his phone shocks him, nearly flinging the journal behind him after he jumped. And luckily, no one saw his little shocked moment. He closes the journal and turns away from Dimples to his phone.

Of course, they ruin it.




Hey i won’t be able to work out w/ u tonight D:



Why are you ditching me??


bc i have a date


Your excuses are getting sadder and sadder


u really don’t think i have a date?

Let me remind u that u havent go on a date,

or gotten laid in three years…


keep your dirty hands out of my love life

if you want to have food on the table when you get home



u hella petty so u would


Still haven’t gotten with that giant?






shut it

and who is supposed to be my partner for tonight then?


ur best friend


you know that is a lost cause


“min yoongi you’re my only hope”

Say that or threaten to not make him food

better yet hide the key to his in-home studio

and then he won’t be able to make music


have you always been this evil??


It’s just hidden under my layer of extreme cuteness

So u gonna do it?


It doesn’t look like i have a choice thanks to you.





be careful

love you

be home before three at least please



in fucking college and u are giving me a curfew??

But alright

Love u too


Yoongi is going to murder him. But it would do some good for the living ghost to work out occasionally. Seokjin will even go easy on him and do basic things. Honestly if he manages to pull this off and not get his bed thrown out the window again it will be a miracle. Maybe the soft Yoongi will show and be kind enough to let Seokjin have his way. It’s both for his physical health and mental health as that is where he mostly whines about Dimples.

With tonight being especially important as he realized something he prayed not to happen.

Seokjin groans and puts his phone down, head rolling back to lean against the plush cushion. Eyes shut for a mere moment before footsteps jolt him back to reality.

“Excuse me Seokjin-sshi,” Hoseok stops at the end of the table, holding a cup of steaming something in his hands with a sparkle in his eyes. Seokjin twists to straighten up, he doesn’t think he ordered anything else, did he? “I don’t think I ordered anything?”

“You didn’t,” Hoseok shakes his head quickly, “The man in the booth asked me to bring it to you.” Now this is something odd. Seokjin leans to look around Hoseok to find the café nearly empty. A few late-night students cramming but they are all huddled around tables… The only one a booth is…

Dimples .

Heat flourishes onto Seokjin’s cheeks, possibly out of embarrassment as Hoseok sets the cup down, and behold. It’s his usual, the coffee he orders way too often, “Did he know it’s my favorite?” Seokjin squeaks out as the waiter turns. Hoseok throws a chuckle over his shoulder, “Yep!” The cackling growing as he walks away, leaving Seokjin agape and stunned.

Butterflies are certainly not flying rapid in his stomach. No, damn lionesses are tearing up his stomach with how weird he feels. Seokjin is shaking slightly, because this seems like a warning.

Dimples might have figured out Seokjin has been watching him, taking notes on him, fucking stalking him for a year and a half. This tea could be a threat saying, ‘take this and leave me alone.’ Or it’s possibly poisoned. He wouldn’t mind dying about right now. Seokjin eyes the coffee, the steam curling into the air in waves and knotting together.

He chances a glance up to see Dimples already staring. His gaze hounding him, trying to unravel the mystery of why most likely. Why does a stranger have a journal about him ? ‘Oh no sir it’s just an observation so I can make characters for my novel!’ It won’t bode well for him in court when a restraining order is placed on him. Good going Seokjin.

And Dimples is still staring. He hasn’t removed an earbud at all. Hasn’t acknowledged that he sent the (maybe death) drink over to him. His hand still seems to be writing, and fast at that. Then the staring stops, with his eyes floating down to the page. Seokjin finally breathes and hastily takes the cup in his hands. Blowing on the tea a little and taking a sip. It’s perfectly fine.

Thank gosh.

He drinks more and looks up to see Dimples staring at him again. Then looking at his paper. And looking back up at Seokjin. This process repeats for ages, at least it felt that way to Seokjin. He finishes the possible peace/threatening tea agreement. He finds his pen and jots down one last thing on the page,

I’ll either die by poison or by embarrassment and it’s all Dimples fault.

He shuts the journal and shoves it in his bag, followed by the laptop. Seokjin cleans up his mess, and opens his phone, it’s time to go and wake the sleeping bear.




wake up

you are my workout buddy for the day

so get dressed


fuck no

do i look like one to voluntarily die??


if you refuse, the following will happen:

no cooked meals for a month

your studio will be locked for two weeks

and i will walk in on you showering,

and join for the rest of the year


fine, you win.

this is an abusive relationship, I’ll let you know

who shitted in your cornflakes this morning?


our roommate

plus something happened



also do i need to murder dimples??

it will be worse than hyosang

i’ll get more than a restraining order this time too

nobody hurts you and gets away with it


if you find me dead in the morning,

then you can murder him as you please

omw home






shut it and get dressed


Seokjin locks his phone as it continues to vibrate with hysterical texts from Yoongi that certainly aren’t common. He shuffles out of the booth and quickly pays at the counter. All while making sure he doesn’t make eye contact with Dimples who seems to be staring holes into his back. Jihoon hands him back his card and waits for the register to process it, “Leaving early today?”

“Yeah, I’ve got to get home make sure my roommate is still sane.” Seokjin places the card in its slot and shoves his wallet in his bag. Jihoon chuckles and opens his mouth to say something. However, per usual, he is interrupted.

“Jihoon your boyfriend wants you!”

The young pink haired boy blushes and nearly pulls the register with him to run to back and probably punch the hell out of whoever it was who said that. “Soonyoung is not my boyfriend so shut your face before I rip it off!”

“Then your boytoy wants you asshole!”

Jihoon growls and rips off the receipt once it’s printed, handing it to Seokjin, “I’m sorry for that but please excuse me as I chop off their dicks and throw them in a fire.” The waiter bustles off with a wave and Seokjin heads for the door. He refuses to look at Dimples, but he can’t help but be curious as out of the corner of his eye, he sees the smallest of smiles thrown his way as he exits the café.

“So, let me get this straight.” Yoongi groans, heaving as he sits up and desperately throws the weighted ball at Seokjin, “He sent you a drink?” He flops back down, sweat dripping off his bangs and onto his cheeks, he’s already sweated through his t-shirt and is desperate to stop.

Seokjin on the other hand, doesn’t seem affected at all, well he is breathing heavy but not feeling death. “Yes, he sat there staring at me till I finished it.” Seokjin lays back down only to sit up a second later, handing the ball back to Yoongi who huffs and lays back down.

“And you think he knows you take notes on him?” Yoongi sits up one final time, and hands the ball to Seokjin who falls back down onto his back and reaches behind him to tap the ball to the ground before coming back up, “Not necessarily that but...” He groans and covers his eyes with the palms of his hands after handing the ball to Yoongi, “I don’t know he confuses me to a point I can’t think straight.”

“He isn’t like the other ‘muses’ you take notes on. You wrote a paragraph about his nose . Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? A paragraph about his fucking nose Jin.” Yoongi is moving faster, either his anger with Seokjin or he is faking it and staying up.

Seokjin has his own things to fire back, plus it gets the subject off him. “It’s ridiculous when I do it but when you go on and on with impromptu rapping about that little dance major you have a crush on for hours into the night?”

“Fucking Taehyung told you didn’t he-”

“No, I could hear you from my room and stood in your doorway for an hour listening. You are way cheesier than me about his cheeks than I am about Dimples’s nose.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Yoongi chunks the weighted ball at Seokjin who barely had sat up enough to catch it before it shattered his nose.  They both stay up after that, a silent yet mutual understanding of enough is enough. The elder stays quiet a moment with Yoongi watching his friend’s expression with worry. Seokjin hasn’t been this worked up and confused about a person in ages, the last time it ended horribly and it felt like Seokjin had died and went on. Only a shell of him roamed around for about a year and Yoongi can’t have that again.

Yoongi pulls his legs out from the position of being locked next to Seokjin’s feet and folds them underneath himself, wiping the sweat from his face. He reaches to his left and grabs a water bottle out of his bag, tossing one into Seokjin’s stomach and earning a muttered curse. “Is it like back then?” He asks quietly, scooting till he is sitting next to Seokjin’s head.

“Yeah I think so.” Seokjin whispers, pushing the water bottle off and gripping the sides of the weighted ball. He begins again without waiting for Yoongi, and goes faster, using the energy to not think and work on pushing himself over the edge. Yoongi watches him and lets him slip from the world till he finishes draining the water bottle. He counted about fifty sit-ups before he promptly sits on Seokjin’s chest to make him stop.

“Yoongi get your filthy ass off me.” Seokjin groans, tapping Yoongi’s thigh harshly after he puts the ball down. “Dude seriously I can’t breathe.” Yoongi doesn’t move, electing to fling his legs out and stretch his sore muscles, “That’s a damn lie, I did this last week when you wouldn’t stop working out in the apartment and it stunk up the whole place with your sweat.”

The two struggle for a minute, ignoring the stares of others who are trying to work out but must walk around the two morons arguing back and forth. “I will hit you with a thirty-pound weight if you do another sit-up.” Yoongi threatens, now successfully locking Seokjin’s arms under his legs.

“Can you really lift the thirty-pound weight?” Seokjin spits, glaring harshly at his friend who should be respectful and get the off so he can work his stress out. Of course, without moving and being restrained has his mind working back on the issue that he wants to so badly to be free from.

Yoongi is glaring daggers, “Listen asshole, we’ve done everything possible in this gym not to mention these extra abs bullshit you made me do. ‘take it easy’ my ass. Now listen, we are going home and if I find you doing another sit up, push up, burpee, or whatever you do at home I am locking your room.” He hisses and promptly sits his full weight down on Seokjin, earning a whine from the elder.

“Fine, now get off.” Seokjin hits Yoongi’s exposed thigh harshly and makes the skin turn red, “You and your pale ass need some sun Christ, no wonder Taehyung calls you a ghost.” Seokjin grumbles, Yoongi finally stands up and walks away. Seokjin reaching for his gym bag not far off. The strap is in his grasp when it’s kicked a few feet away. “Look at that, a ghost kicked your bag.”

Yoongi is lucky he makes it out of the area as Seokjin had grabbed a twenty-pound dumbbell and was aiming to kill it seems. The elder puts it back and grabs his bag, following his somehow best friend out who waits in the front and away from danger.

“I’ve never seen you run so fast.” Seokjin pushes the door open, hit with a heat blast that has him feeling sweaty again in his tank top and the sweat pants he barely managed to slip on over his shorts. Yoongi follows suit with a scowl on his face, “Shut it. What time is it anyway?”

“Little after eight, should we grab dinner to go? Taehyung has a date so it should just be us.” Yoongi hums in response, apparently already knowing about the thought he couldn’t believe. “I get to pick since you brought hell upon me.”

Seokjin clicks his tongue in annoyance, side glancing a glare as he and Yoongi walk down the street, towards their apartment and Yoongi’s usual favorite mom and pop shop that sits around the corner. “Who do you think Taehyung is going on a date with?”

Yoongi raises his eyebrows for a moment, then his lips turn down, “This kid, his name is-”

He didn’t get to hear the rest of Yoongi’s sentence. Seokjin stopped walking, stop thinking, stop fucking breathing as his eyes are trained straight in front of him.

“Jin?” Yoongi is a few feet in front, staring back at his friend who looks like he saw the ass-who-must-not-be-named in the flesh again. He follows the line of sight to see across the street, a person standing at the window of a small book shop. A tall man wearing a baby blue shirt and black jeans, holding a beanie in his hand and with blond hair styled to the side… Yoongi looks closer and a light bulb clicks in his head, “Hey I know that kid.”

He glances back to Seokjin but he finds nothing of where his friend was. Yoongi turns in a circle before he figures his friend ran home as it was only two blocks away. The fucker gave him the slip and figured out how to get more exercise in. Yoongi groans and glances back at the nerd now walking into the bookstore with a smile on his face, and another light bulb clicks.

“Oh, fucking hell Jin.” Yoongi turns down a street, walking fast to get home, “Of all the nerds why him? Then again a dork found another dork so I shouldn’t be that surprised.” He runs now, taking two steps up the stairs at a time and doesn’t have to bother with the door as it was already opened.

And behold, Seokjin doing push-ups in the middle of the living room. “That is Dimples? What the fuck.” Yoongi throws his bag on the couch and easily sits on Seokjin’s back, making the elder fall flat on his stomach, successfully knocking the breath out of him.

“Get off!” Seokjin struggles, wiggling underneath Yoongi for a second time in the last hour. “Yoongi seriously get off. I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”

“Oh really? Not when I know him?”

Yoongi goes flying into the couch as Seokjin somehow managed to turn from underneath him and sits up, staring wide eyed at him. “ What are you talking about?”

“We are sort of friends actually.” Yoongi leans back into the couch, draping his arms over his eyes and already drifting off to sleep. Seokjin on the other hand couldn’t be more awake.

“What? How? When? Why? Tell me his name!”

“Nope, I don’t think so. I’d rather see how this plays out.”

“Are you that bitter about tonight?”

“Yeah actually.” Yoongi groans and stands up, “Now go to bed. It’s late.”

“It’s not even nine yet.”

“Exactly and you have work in the morning.”

“Fine, whatever.”











Seokjin admits at times he is the biggest wimp. This time, over a cup of fucking coffee that was perfectly fine. He hasn’t gone back to the café since then, and it’s now a week later. He’s hauled up in his apartment which is not helpful at all, quite boring in fact. And very noisy with Taehyung, he’s not complaining about it though. No one can really study with that fireball in the room anyway.

Quite frankly he didn’t go back because he wanted to get any information he could out of Yoongi. But the stubborn fool wouldn’t crack, not even with the help of Taehyung threatening to expose who the guy he is crushing on is. It looks like the living ghoul gets his wish of seeing how things play out.

Seokjin’s finally able to simmer down his pride and walks into the café, not even daring to look anywhere else but his booth. Offering a smile and whimper of hello to the employees who all throw coos of ‘missed you!’.

He sits down with a sigh, he’s almost forgotten about how comfortable the cushions were, feeling like he could sink into a cloud and disappear for a while, or a quick nap. The journals fall out of his bag, he grabs the one filled with everyone else, opening it to another clean page as Chubby Cheeks and Peter Pan are back, snuggled in a booth and probably whispering sweet nothings to one another. It seems like such puppy love to him, and he only wished his love life was a sweet as theirs.

A dark cloud sits over his heart. At first it felt like bad luck, and it followed him around. Like his own personal villain that worked in the sewers to ruin anything good going for him. It’s always the same ending that feels repeated and staged.

Gnawing at his lip, he opens the Dimples journal, labeling it quickly and adding the thing Yoongi has been saying, regrettably admitting it silently to himself.


#258 – Dimples

June 11th , 2016

Positive I’m in love with Dimples


He’s nervous to be in the same room as Dimples. Because how the hell did he fall in love with a person he doesn’t know, not even his name? His family would be downright ashamed of him, he would agree with them completely. Seokjin rubs at his temples, trying his hardest not to think of his stupid self, or dumb blond hair that suits Dimples all too well. That dumb yet cute trait of his where he accidentally breaks everything he touches.

The beating of his heart skips a beat, then another and he ends up covering his reddening face. His shoulders slump forward, idly gazing down at the now closed journal. He gnaws at his bottom lip, teeth sinking in enough to draw blood.

What the hell did he do so wrong in his past life? Was he a prince of some sort and fell for the stable boy? Did he go against his parents’ wishes of marrying a princess and threw everything away for the clumsy fool? Why did he have to fall for a person he very much likely will only lose later?

Falling for him through a goddamn journal sounds like a cheesy romance novel about to made into a film. No way will a company profit off his pathetic way of walking into a nightmare. That book wouldn’t have a plot, nothing but entries. And he isn’t about to advance the plot either. He’s going to let it die, that’s the best option to save himself.

A string of curses erupts from his lips; the doorbell ringing as low and behold the other star of the shitty romance novel enters. Seokjin’s inhale of breath is something to marvel at; Dimples is gone with the blond hair, now a soft silver; wearing a black and white striped t-shirt tucked into dark blue skinny jeans. His eyes drift around the café, and linger on Seokjin for a second too long. Seokjin nearly chokes on his own spit and pulls out his phone.



I really hate you

he walked in now

please save me


fuck you


are you still bitter




it was a simple workout




what are you doing that you can’t say more than two words?


none of your business

get off your phone and die



don’t leave me pls

come rescue me


Seokjin groans and drops his phone on the table, popping his fingers to keep his hands to stop himself from imagining wringing Yoongi’s neck. It would be so easy to sneak up on the bastard because his headphones are always on so he can’t hear a damn thing. Both hands could easily wrap around his neck and it would be done before-

“You know cracking your fingers is bad.” A deep but smooth voice hisses and proceeds to do the same.

“Well if it’s so bad then why did you-” Seokjin lips seal shut, eyes averting to the end of his booth to see a striped shirt tucked into jeans. God please let it be some moron I can shove away and not- He almost whimpers as his eyes crawl up the chest to see it is in fact his worst (or best?) nightmare. Panic flourishes in his stomach, heart, brain, everywhere in his body. Dimples is supposed to be over there, and not here. Not in front of Seokjin who is ready to run in the opposite direction. Instead he must suck it up and stare into Dimples intriguing eyes, catching a sly smile working its way onto his lips. It’s almost teasing in the way he doesn’t stop smiling, annoying him to bits, maybe he could use his journals to knock him out and run-

The journals!

Seokjin breaks eye contact, pushing the journals back into his bag and holding it close to his chest like his life depends on it. Dimples drops into the seat across from him, the cushion groaning under the pressure. “Sorry for the intrusion, but my seat is taken.” He points over his shoulder. Seokjin follows his finger, to see an empty booth void of any people unless there are ghosts sitting in it. In the one next to it however, sits Chubby Cheeks and Peter Pan. Dimples must have mistaken which booth was his. By how much he wants to tell him the truth and see Dimples blush from embarrassment, he only nods, letting Dimples stay.

So, he plays along, “It looks like they will be there a while.” Seokjin curls his fingers into his sweater, more nervous than he has ever been in his life. Dimples nods in agreement and sets his bag on the table, “I hope you don’t mind me crashing with you.”

“Not at all,” Now this is where Seokjin wishes he had a filter on his mouth, “Though don’t break anything.”   Fucking shit. Regret, take it back, go back five seconds- wait no. Go back to where he thought it would be a good idea to show his face in the café today.

Dimples on the other hand, chuckles, red crawling up his neck to dust his cheeks in pink, “It just happens! I can’t help it!” He whines, pushing out his bottom lip in the cutest pout that Seokjin has ever seen. He covers his mouth before more words come out that would be absolutely embarrassing for him, ten times worse at that.

“Alright, I believe you. I’ve seen the cup break by merely being in your presence.” Seokjin jokes, tapping the table to get him to smile, “That power could become useful some day you know?” It earns a laugh, Seokjin mentally pats himself on the back.

“I guess I’ll finally accept my nickname as the ‘god of destruction’.” Dimples looks down, smiling bashfully and there , there are those damn dimples. Seokjin cups his own cheek, squishing it to keep himself from gushing over Dimples.

God why did he have to fall in love with a stranger?

“By the way,” Dimples asks, interlocking his hands under his chin, “What’s your name?” His eyes never let Seokjin look away, they light up with amusement and curiosity. He chuckles slightly, stomach flipping, “Why do you want to know? Are you a stalker?” He nearly laughs at his own question, because he is really the stalker.

Namjoon rolls his eyes in a teasing manner, “Of course not, but I’ll offer mine name first to make you feel better.” He pauses, lips perking up, “Namjoon, Kim Namjoon as what it says on my identification.”

That does make him feel better. A billion times better. In fact, he feels like he should go back and scratch out all those name ideas that Namjoon could have had. Because damn, Namjoon fits him so well. It’s soft like him, yet holds power. It can become smaller into Joonie, a nickname that he can see himself using, it’s perfect.

“Well Namjoon, we have the same surname.” He leans back, smiling in a teasing way as he knows the man wants his name, “It’s really common huh?”

“That definitely narrows down your name now.” Namjoon huffs, being sarcastic in retort to Seokjin’s baiting. He crosses his arms, eyes begging to know.

“Seokjin.” He gives in, wanting to hear what Namjoon says next, “Most people call me Jin.” He doesn’t dismiss the spark lighting up in Namjoon’s eyes. Going from a deep brown to a light chestnut with how the light shines from overhead.

He doesn’t get an answer though, the man pulls out a journal, covered with a sleeve that looks like some sort of aesthetic on it, and flips through the pages, jotting something down. He hears a small ‘interesting’ as he watches closer. “Why the cover if I can ask?”

Namjoon shuts the journal, staring at the cover for a moment before looking up again, “Because it’s something out of this world so to say. The actual cover is plain and boring. Now you see, I am not. Be it the good or bad different, is up to you to decide but I wanted something that represented me, the galaxy background says there is something beyond our planet, something more than us humans but we can’t see past humanizing everything, right? Like why do extraterrestrials have to act like humans? Why-” He stops, eyes blown wide like a child who suddenly was heartbroken that Santa isn’t real.

Seokjin’s smile disappears, though he hadn’t known he was smiling as Namjoon was speaking, talking so in depth, showing him that brilliant mind. “Why did you stop?” He sees the answer among those sad irises, it’s clear. Someone, somewhere told him that part of him was annoying. So now when he catches himself doing it, he freezes, figuring if one person didn’t like it, then who would?

“Sorry, I tend to ramble on about nonsense, going too far for people’s liking.” He tries to smile, but it’s fake and disappears faster than it happened. What Seokjin wants to know who told him, because they don’t want to face his wrath. How could they do that to a person? Shun their personality or features because they don’t like it? Forever ruining them? Installing a reaction in them that affects them from being themselves.

So Seokjin is going to take it upon himself, to fix it. “No, you shouldn’t apologize, it’s fascinating. I’d like to hear more from you.”

Deep red flourishes in his cheeks, staring down into his lap and surely twiddling his fingers together to think about something else than a comment he most likely hasn’t ever heard. “Now, what do you write in that journal of yours?”

“Oh uh,” Namjoon looks up, a smirk dancing its way onto his face, “That’s a secret.”

“A secret?” Seokjin raises an eyebrow, “What’s so secret you can’t tell me?”

Namjoon scoffs, hand wrapping around his journal to keep it close to him, “Maybe I’ll tell you if you tell me what’s in your journal.” Well, Seokjin won’t be finding out what Namjoon writes about. His whole journal is about Namjoon and finding out someone who you meet today has had a whole journal on you for a year and a half isn’t interesting. It’s creepy, and not the best way to get what he wants. He sighs and puts his fingers to his lips, “Mine’s a secret too.” If he told, he would have a restraining order attached to his name in the next few days. He can only pray that Namjoon hasn’t figured it out, and is here to mock him, or get proof so he can be arrested. Reminder, stop watching so many cop shows with Taehyung.

“Ah Namjoonie look at you!” Hoseok’s voice makes them both jump, breaking their impromptu staring contest, “Finally talking to Seokjin-sshi.” He places two mugs down, very much their usual drinks only now they are brought to the same table.

Namjoon flushes a deep shade, going between looking wide eyed at Seokjin and sending glaring daggers at Hoseok. “Shut it!” he squeaks, quickly distracting himself with taking a sip of his drink, which is still much too hot and ends up burning his tongue. “Hey I think Yoongi-hyung is spying on you.”

“What?” Seokjin had said it. Namjoon did too. He had almost forgotten about Yoongi knowing Namjoon after he finally meet the man. But the pure look of shock on Namjoon’s face lets him know that he doesn’t know that Seokjin knows Yoongi. “I can’t believe him-” Namjoon begins, searching frantically for the elder.

But Seokjin knowing his best friend, spots him easily. “Leave this to me.” He reaches over and taps on Namjoon’s forearm, easily sliding out of the booth. He vaguely hears a protest but ignores it, sneakily walking over to the hidden booth on the other side of the café, and catching an ear in his fingers, “Hello, Yoongi. Fancy meeting you here.” His voice is devilish, only getting this way on certain occasions.

“Finally meet the man you are stalking I see-OW ALRIGHT.” Yoongi groans, letting himself be pulled out of the booth, “This is abuse! Someone get this lunatic off me!” He shouts, only earning odd looks from the other customers. Seokjin rolls his eyes at Yoongi’s flailing arms trying to pull the hand off his ear. The pain is almost worth watching this meeting between the two dorks, Yoongi will admit. It’s future payback for whatever Seokjin decides to pull.

“Uh Seokjin-sshi aren’t you being a bit aggressive?” Hoseok pales, still standing there as Seokjin sits back down in the booth, pulling Yoongi along with him. “He’s done worse to me, haven’t you?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, rubbing at his ear, “Whatever asshole.”

“You two know each other?” Namjoon’s question is a bit strung out, mouth dropped in shock with more blinks than necessary. Seokjin stops glaring at Yoongi, letting the anger relax before meeting Namjoon’s confused eyes, and now Hoseok has sat down next to him, equally intrigued by the current events going on.

“We’ve been best friends since middle school, not to mention we share an apartment with our other friend.” Seokjin explains, still utterly pissed that his horrible best friend spied on him, even after he threatened to find the little dance major he is crushing on and out him completely.

Namjoon’s lips drop, gaze turning to Yoongi, “This is your roommate? What the hell man?”

Yoongi shrugs, “What’s the big deal? You two could have meet sooner, both of you chose not to till Namjoon here thought his booth was taken.” He grabs Seokjin’s coffee, drinking almost half of it. The three that remain sit stunned, Hoseok sliding out of the booth mumbling ‘un-fucking-believable, what the hell’ walking towards the back where the rest of the employees watch with hawk like eyes, surely going to interrogate him for the juicy details.

“Well then how do you know Namjoon?” Seokjin asks, yanking back his drink that he is paying for to at least get a sip of it. Yoongi better explain this time, telling him everything for being such an asshole about it earlier, “You’ll be lucky if I cook you any meals.”

“This is the cooking roommate you always complain about?” Namjoon stutters, eyes glued to Yoongi to beg for answers. The calm and not utterly shocked man rolls his eyes, earning a pinch to the side for the comment about Seokjin being annoying from said man. “I know Namjoon here from college, he is younger but smart so he skipped a few years. We were in the music degree track together, shared many classes and we both work at a music company. We write, produce and rap together. Happy?”

“Not with you.” Seokjin mutters, soaking in the new information about Namjoon. He’s smart, amazingly smart if he was only a year behind himself in school. He works with Yoongi, so all those days when he would bring him lunch, Namjoon must’ve been there. It’s scary how the two have the same friend, yet haven’t crossed paths, it’s not like Yoongi is one to bring friends back to the apartment though, but still.

Yoongi points at Namjoon, with a glare but smirking, “The boss would like to see you in the office more often than in here writing songs kid.” And Namjoon looks scandalized, eyes flickering to Seokjin who catches it.

“So, that’s what is in the journal.” Seokjin smiles, excited that he got what he wanted. Leaning back to send a smug grin towards Namjoon. “Thank you for being helpful for once Yoongi.”

“Oh, so to make it far what’s in your journal is-”

“That’s enough!”

Seokjin barely manages to get Yoongi out of the café in time before his life is ruined on the same day he finally got to meet Dimples.











#259 – Dimples

June 25th , 2016



His head pops up, eyes blinking quickly as they weren’t prepared to be suddenly drawn from the word document on the laptop to Namjoon shyly standing at the end of his table. “Uh yes? Also, you can just call me hyung or Jin. Either one works fine.” It takes him a moment to fully stop being blown away by Namjoon again. His outfit isn’t even that stunning yet it brings his typing fingers to a pause. Gray sweat pants with a plain black tee that conforms to his body perfectly. It defines his chest that has Seokjin biting his lip in frustration.


“Wait, say Jin?”


His eyes close for a moment, Namjoon’s voice is tentative and soft. Questionable yet caring. Yes, he likes hearing that from him. “Use that name from now alright? And sit down.” He kicks the opposing booth seat with his foot, already knowing that Namjoon was about to suggest that someone was in his booth again. He wouldn’t be lying this time because Seokjin checked once he arrived himself.

“Alright,” He drops down in the seat, rattling the table, “What are you working on?” He questions, forgetting his own things to work on in favor of speaking with Seokjin. His hands cupping his face with elbows on the table, staring. If this is sending Seokjin’s emotions on fire, then he doesn’t want to imagine what he would feel like if they were dating.

“Oh nothing in particular,” Seokjin hums, fingers slipping under the table to reach for his bag, “Just a story.”

“A story? You write?” Namjoon tilts his head, eyebrows shot up in surprise. That had crossed his mind when he was trying to figure out what exactly Prince did. God, that nickname now doesn’t do justice to Seokjin like it did before. He had thought it went perfectly for the man who always seemed to look around the café like a teacher to see if anyone is behaving. Don’t get him wrong he knew calling him Prince was a bit cheesy but when he first laid eyes on him from across the café, the sun was hitting him perfectly, rays casting down on his dark brown hair turning it a chestnut that seemed to make a sunlight crown atop his head.

(Yes, his mind might have put an elegant suit on Seokjin, downed with pins and fancy cords that showed his status as some country’s prince.)

“It’s been my hobby for a while.” Seokjin says, smiling slightly, “When I’m not off being an amazing chef of course.” His hand itches to reach in and grab his journal, add the finer details of Namjoon’s face now that he can stare without it being too awkward. Though he would have to do it slyly by either writing with the journal on his lap or typing them on his laptop till he can transfer them to the journal.

“What’s it about? Or is that what is in the journal you hide?” Namjoon quirks his eyebrow, because maybe he has Seokjin caught enough to satisfy his curiosity enough to help add to his own work. He’s created enough well written lyrics by only gazing at him from afar, imagine what he can make with being up close and befriending him.

Seokjin is debating, should he tell? It’s not like he can figure out what the journals are for by talking about the plot. With his options weighed, he takes a risk, “No it’s not what is in the journals but this story is simple. Not all that interesting really.” He pauses, waiting for Namjoon to let the conversation die. But with that dumb cheeky smile, a protest is bound to happen if he doesn’t continue.

“It’s about this little prince- not really little but he’s the youngest, the spare heir under his two elder brothers. He had always lived in that world but never had to be a part of it. He would walk among the people, yet he felt cut off, in his own bubble, separate from the citizens, and even separate from his own family. They were so consumed with power, something he didn’t care for. Power is dangerous, he thought, it attracts the worst and corrupts the best. He was born into the vicious cycle he wanted no part in. So, in the easiest sense, he was lonely. He could see the kingdom in its ugly truth as he was the one of the royal family that no one saw, or knew about. So, he was free to walk wherever, and do anything. He had the freedom to do so, and he took advantage of that. He loved the kingdom, yet saw the hardships it was facing. But what can a lowly prince do to let his family know? He tried and tried, but they wouldn’t listen, tightening the noose around his neck more. They didn’t understand like he did. He saw the people through their eyes and not like a royal. He knew what needed to be fixed, and he thought he could fix it.”


“Yes, for what he didn’t know, an evil magic was seeping through the kingdom, brought on by the outcasted witches that were thought to be eradicated ages ago. They had wielded their magic on the queen, who in turn without magic, morphed her own family. Except the young prince. His most unlikely ally, is a witch who had been in hiding, living in poverty among the peasants, who had taken a drastic interest in him. He would follow the prince everywhere, not to spy, only to watch. He would shapeshift into many animals, people, even supernatural beings just to get a closer look. The prince is oblivious to it all of course, thinking he is alone when in fact his admirer is only a step away.”

Seokjin stops to breath, not much of the story has ever been told to another person, only snippets about the prince in a way. “I know it’s not to most interesting plot but I wanted to create something I liked.” He watches Namjoon nod, very enthusiastically, he hadn’t noticed the blond taking out his notebook or pen, jotting things down as he listened to Seokjin go on.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s interesting to me, if you like it, that’s all you need to go on to write.” Namjoon says, smiling at him, “Sometimes I’m the only one that likes my lyrics, but that’s ok because I’m proud of them.”

Seokjin knew that of course, he’s always only written for himself, and a select few times Taehyung begged him to whip up a quick short story for shits and giggles. But hearing Namjoon say it, is reassuring, that he isn’t the only one who thinks it. He applied it to himself even- though Seokjin doubts that any song written by Namjoon is a bad one. He must get the younger to play one for him soon.

Namjoon’s nose scrunches up, eyebrows rustled together in thought, “Now that I think about it, the prince kind of sounds like…” He pauses, looking at Seokjin. Is he scared to share what he thinks?

Seokjin leans over, smiling and trying to get him to continue on, “Who? Is it bad? Does it sound too cliché?”

“No, I just, the prince kind of sounds like me, there yet separated from everyone-” Namjoon stops, almost embarrassed to say what Seokjin already knew. Lonely.


Kim Seokjin you fucking moron.

No wonder the prince has been the easiest to write. He morphed from some character he made ages ago to resemble Dimples. He has been so drawn to Namjoon that while writing, the prince began to take on personality traits of Namjoon, soon transforming into a being of his own, being Namjoon, yet not.

Why hadn’t he seen it before?

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Namjoon .” Seokjin rubs at his temples, “I can’t believe I haven’t seen this before.” He lets his forehead fall to the table, sure to leave a red mark later with the lingering sting. The prince grew with Namjoon as Seokjin continuously watched him and wrote more of his story. The damn prince wasn’t supposed to be like Namjoon at all, but not completely the opposite. He was supposed to be arrogant in a way, yet sure of himself but fought for the right reasons. When did he change so suddenly?

“I’m sorry? Is he supposed to be the anti-me?”

It’s almost laughable because in a sense, the prince once was the anti-Namjoon. “No, to be honest he changed from when I originally came up with him,” How long ago had the prince begun to act like Namjoon? “I’m surprised you saw it before I did.”

“Sometimes you need outsiders to realize things yeah?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow, “Yoongi hyung has helped me fix something I thought was fine a million times before.”

“But there is the catch,” Seokjin points at Namjoon, wiggling his finger with a chuckle, “It’s Yoongi, if it’s not music he isn’t much help.”

“I can tell, he is always complaining about how you stink up the apartment with all the cooking you do.” Now Seokjin gets some good material, his ass of a friend who doesn’t appreciate him apparently is going to get something nasty headed his way. Possibly with help of Taehyung which will make it twenty times worse. “I did always wonder what kind of person would room with him.”

“Well I hope you aren’t too disappointed it’s me, I think I take pretty good care of him if I do say so myself.” He isn’t that bad of a friend, the overly caring friend, making sure everyone has eaten before himself.

“I don’t see why he complains, I know I wouldn’t.”

Did he just?

No, nope. That’s not what he meant.

Shut up heart.

“Oh stop, I’m sure Hoseok-ah is just as good of a best friend to you that I am to Yoongi.” Seokjin laughs, playing off the blush creeping up his cheeks with his hands covering his face. He looks up to see a force smile, not meeting his eyes, lips pulled up for an act. “Though to be truthful, Yoongi is an even better friend to me, his whole grumpy act is just a façade to cover his true self when he isn’t in the best of places.” Seokjin adds, wondering if Yoongi had let Namjoon see the cute Yoongi yet. Seokjin hates to admit it, but Yoongi is a better person than himself. He can’t count on his fingers anymore of how Yoongi helped him through tough times, nearly going to jail at one point. The only time that dumb façade is true is when he’s asked or forced to work out, as seen from earlier. It’s usually a lost cause to even think about it.

Namjoon leans back into the cushion, face looking down as footsteps approach, “I heard my name?” Hoseok smiles brightly per usual, a tray in hand with their regular orders if he is to guess. He sets down Namjoon’s cup, then Seokjin’s and the strawberry cake he loves so much. Damn he really looks like a fatass for always getting a slice, but hey, food feeds the soul when it’s drowning itself.

Seokjin pulls the plate closer to himself, picking up the fork and cutting himself a piece off, “Namjoon was being cheesy and saying he loves you.” Seokjin teases, slipping the cake into his mouth, nearly moaning at the delicious flavor. Though also trying not to choke from laughter as Namjoon looks scandalized, eyes widening as Hoseok wiggles his eyebrows at his friend, clearly on board with teasing the younger.

“Oh did he? Isn’t he the cutest?”

“Yah! Both of you are cruel! I don’t deserve this disrespect.”

“The cutest, a real gentle giant!” Seokjin winks at Namjoon, scooping another piece onto the fork, only he holds it out for Namjoon instead of himself. He’s absolutely milking this embarrassment out of Namjoon. He can’t get this kind of genuine reaction out of anyone, and it’s absolutely the best thing he’s ever witnessed. A part of him feels bad for doing this, granted they only officially met a few weeks prior. Having watched him for a year and a half, plus mutually knowing of each other’s existence, has him continuing until Namjoon opens his lips and accepts the cake. His mind thinks not such angelic thoughts when the icing smears across Namjoon’s lips. He didn’t tell the other about it too.





Yoongi, he’s the prince


what are you on?



but he’s the prince


are you on a sugar high?

did you eat a whole cake again?


Does sharing a whole cake count?


You move fast

Did you kiss yet


You know me

with this shit I don’t move at all


Well you are going to have to move

Even at a snail’s pace

Or else you’ll lose him


He deserves better than me


He shared a cake with you

How much more domestic can it get?


Like you can complain

How is your love life going?


Better than yours


I won’t believe it till I see it












#267 – Dimples

July 2nd , 2016


Seokjin has a serious probably he realizes. He probably knew beforehand, but now it’s only become conscious. He can tell when Namjoon is approaching his booth by the sound of his feet walking towards him. It’s louder than normal, yet hesitant and give or take a millisecond between because of those (sexy?) long legs. It’s a major issue when in fact he is writing in his regular journal for the other muses with an earbud in listening to one of Yoongi’s newest piano ballads.

Of course, when he hears the big goof walking towards him, he stops writing in favor of listening to Namjoon walk. With the usual pause, and hesitation to ask to sit.

“Joonie, you don’t have to ask anymore.” They’ve been sitting together for nearly a month now. It’s sweet of him to ask before sitting, but come on. He’s basically fused with this booth as much as Seokjin is. He bets money that Namjoon’s ass print is already stained into the cushion.  

“Oh right, yeah, sure.” The followed fluster of embarrassment with red floating up his neck in a steady pace. Seokjin shuts the journal in favor of seeing the man who quite frankly is becoming the easiest thing to make him smile. Though he can picture Namjoon blushing in his head to a tee, he still wants to see it with his own eyes.

God if only he could have a photo-

“Hey I realized we haven’t gotten each other’s numbers yet.” Seokjin says, scrabbling with the journal to put it away and find his phone. No, this isn’t advancement on his feelings, merely a friendly thing. Even if he wasn’t completely in love with Namjoon like the idiot he is, he could still see himself being friends. So, may friendship grow, and hope the love can die before he is completely consumed and faces rejection again from the most beautiful person in the world.

“Uh actually ,” Namjoon scratches at the back of his neck, hesitantly pulling out his phone, and so clearly not handing it Seokjin. He’s nervous about something, Seokjin concludes, reading his body language enough to feel like he overstepped a boundary. “Yoongi hyung gave me your number earlier. I only, uh, didn’t know what to say.”

Why does he have to be so cute?

“You could have said ‘sup sugar tits’ and I would have been fine, considering that is completely an accurate nickname for myself so,” He isn’t lying. Namjoon could have texted him anything and he would have been fine. Anything sent from the younger would make his heart swoon and jump for joy.

Namjoon breaks out in a smile, “Really? Sugar tits? You wouldn’t have been offended?”

“If it was from someone else, yes. But not from you Joonie.”


He didn’t mean to say that. At least the ‘Joonie’ part. He could use the nickname in his head, but he kept a tight knot on his tongue, making sure it didn’t slip up till now. “Crap, I’m sorry Namjoon-ah.” He apologizes, seeing as Namjoon stilled at the name, eyes blinking quickly.

“No, it’s fine. Keep calling me that, I just wasn’t prepared to hear it.” There is that subtle blush, nervousness from his stuttering words. Hands rustling around to search through a disorganized bag for something while Seokjin stares at him. Stares at him like he’s the most interesting thing in the world. Which he most certainly is. “I liked it, so call me Joonie as much as you wish.”

This won’t be good for Seokjin. To call him nicknames, to become close friends, faster than he has ever dived into a friendship before. It’s madness. Trying to merely be friends with the man he fell in love with through observations. It’s like he fell in love with a science experiment. Only able to observe, not to touch or modify. Simply looking, watching, letting time sort through things on its own. Fate driving its own wedge through Seokjin’s heart to make him fall in love with another person who will ultimately wreck him, destroy him, and chip away at his heart. It’s a lost cause, yet like the idiot he is, he follows along. Letting the red string have its way with his life and bring him on adventures he wouldn’t venture on if he were in the right state of mind and not in love with someone he met not even a month earlier.

“Oh, hey I got you a present.” Namjoon digs around in his bag, clearly and thankfully not seeing Seokjin’s questioning- and quite frankly shocked face. Why would Namjoon get him anything? He certainly doesn’t have anything to give in return so why? He isn’t worthy enough to receive a gift. “Here. I know it’s kinda cheesy but you shared you cake with me so I felt this would be an even payback.” It’s a rectangle box wrapped in silver wrapping paper with a single pink ribbon stuck to the top; his name neatly written in sharpie in the upper left corner.

“You got me a gift for sharing cake?” Seokjin deadpans, hands reaching for the box to examine it with a nod of confirmation and worried eyes, is Namjoon scared he won’t like it? He shrugs because it could be anything, a gag gift or some little memorabilia from a convenience store. He slowly peels off the wrapping paper, opting to tease the younger in anticipation. “If I get a gift for sharing food then I wonder what kind of gift I’ll get for my birthday- Oh yeah by the way when is yours because if it passed already then I’ll have to get yo-”

“You got me fake glasses?” Seokjin picks the glasses out of the box, noticing the easy similarities between the pair in his hand and the pair nearly falling off Namjoon’s nose. “They are the same, you know, that, right?”

“Of course, I did that on purpose so we could match.” Namjoon uses his knuckle to push his glasses back up, smiling brightly with those damn dimples appearing and sucking Seokjin’s heart out of him. “I wanted to see you in glasses, you know. For science.”

No what Seokjin is doing is for science, testing how much control he has over himself to stay put so he doesn’t smother Namjoon in kisses in the middle of the café for such a simple gift that shouldn’t make him feel this way. “For science? Really?” He scoffs, not believing it for a second, “What else do you want to know ‘for science’?”

Namjoon fumbles his eyebrows, a little pout resting on his lips, “Put on the glasses and I’ll talk.” And being the little idiot he is, he complies, putting the glasses on and smiling, “Do I look good?” He asks, modeling the glasses by fluttering his head around, causing Namjoon to let out that adorable low stomach chuckle he’s still not accustomed to hearing in such close proximity.

“You look absolutely handsome in them. You rock glasses way better than I do.” Namjoon says, covering his smile to hide like he always does. Seokjin cocks a smirk, “Nah, they suit you more than me. It gives off that sexy intelligent look that all the girls love.” That’s a friend thing to do, yeah call him sexy and say all the girls will love him for it. In a none gay way, but sort of. God, he really needs to figure out what is alright to say and what’s not in front of Namjoon.

“That is overruled, the jury says Kim Seokjin looks best in them.” Namjoon flatly says, ignoring the compliment and moving on, eyes seeming a bit uncomfortable at it, “Now as for your earlier question, I was also wondering what you would look like blond?”

Now why in the world would he want to know that? “Like me only with blond hair? Duh.” Seokjin mocks Namjoon, because what is he supposed to look like with a different hair color? “Thank you for the glasses though, I like them. Now we can match.” He suggests, trying to get the other to smile. It works easier than he thought.

“It’s my pleasure. I solved some of my curiosity thanks to it.” He tilts his head with a simple smile, causing Seokjin’s heart to wither inside.

“So, when is your birthday? I hope I have enough time to find a good present for you before then.” He really needed to change the subject before he says something stupid, again.

“September twelfth.”

Seokjin knows he’s frozen still. He knows that day. That journal entry dated on that day last year. It’s when he came in sobbing. Crying, shaking and utterly broken. He was crying on his birthday. Something happened on his birthday that left him in that shell of a state, and left him out to handle it on his own. Mind fumbling over itself to try and figure out why he was crying, what happened. But it can’t come to a complete conclusion. Still missing obvious puzzle pieces that can’t form the picture.

“When is yours?” Namjoon startles him out of his shocked state, sipping at his drink as if was delivered to them during his little inner turmoil. “Oh, it’s December fourth.”

“Cool.” Is the response. Letting Seokjin slip back into his state of worry and concern. Allowing Namjoon to pull out his journal and begin working, unaware of the man witnessing something the other probably doesn’t want anyone to know.

His eyes don’t move from their hooded gaze of watching him. The subtle movements as he writes, nose scrunching up if he doesn’t like something, a little nod if he’s approving of what’s being put onto paper. He’s so precious, and Seokjin can’t understand why someone would want to hurt him.

He’s falling faster, and deeper for Namjoon.

He needs some outside advice. Someone who doesn’t know Namjoon, and maybe, maybe , can help him figure a way out of this never ending black hole.











#278 – Dimples

July 16th , 2016




hey I won’t be there today



ah why not?

I have something I wanted to tell you


im going on a date

you can tell me tomorrow tho!!


ur going on a date?

with who?


an old college crush




you ok?

are you sick?

I can drop off some soup at the company for you?



I’m fine.

have fun on your date


oh alright.

bye joonie


“I refuse to be your date Jin.” Jaehwan has always been an ass, “You lied to him. And based on those messages, I think you broke his heart.” So, this attitude isn’t exactly new to him.

“Now you are the crazy one.” Seokjin sips at his wine, already nearly done with his glass that was barely poured five minutes ago, “I need help.”

“No, you obviously need some dick but ok.”

Jaehwan does in fact get a sharp glare from across the table, and a wine glass nearly thrown at his head.

Seokjin needs answers. Or help. Or just a night away from his apartment and Namjoon. Either way he lied to all those close to him, saying he is on a date when in fact, he’s sitting in a pair of sweats and an old hoodie on Jaehwan’s couch. He even went as far as to dress up only for leaving the apartment, changing as soon as he got into his friend’s place.

“Yoongi’s kept me up to date about this whole scenario, first off,” That’s never a good sign. Now that he thinks about it, he probably shouldn’t have gone to his straight friend for help. “Start flirting.”

“Why should I even try when he’s always getting eyed by tons of girls? I mean he’s straight as far as I can tell.” Seokjin whines, grabbing a pillow to punch his frustrations out. There have already been numerous times when girls have walked up to their table to ask for Namjoon’s number. Some do ask for his but, more for Namjoon rather than himself. He can’t stop the jealous glaring, the pit of fire burning in his stomach as he smiles at them but declines. He pretends not to notice Namjoon looking at the girls, smirking slightly and enjoying the girls’ attention.

He wants that attention on him. But it seems it never will be on him for if he is there. “Jin you really shouldn’t assume, he may look straight as fuck, but would you have pegged Yoongi for being gay by appearance?” Jaehwan makes a point. There was a time when everyone flip flopped them. They pretended to go with it too. So, for a few years to a lot of people, Seokjin was straight and Jaehwan gay. It was the best long running joke they’ve ever pulled.

“Still. Even if he did like me, once he finds out about this journal that’s all about him, he will be running for the hills.” Seokjin grips the damn journal in his hands, the cover a bit beaten, some pages wrinkled inside. Very much so like his feelings, twisting and turning his insides into mush. It’s not fair. Not to him, or Namjoon.

“If what Yoongi tells me is true, he will be running straight into your arms.” Jaehwan reaches for the wine bottle, refilling both of their glasses as soon they will be tipsy and won’t remember most of this conversation in the morning. Thank gosh neither of them have work tomorrow.

Seokjin hums a moment, sipping at his glass, letting the wine run down his throat, “And what does he tell you?” Knowing Yoongi it could be anything, but he’s skeptical. Does Namjoon mention him when he’s not around?

“So, I won’t go in depth as much as he does because I wish to save my throat from your anger but, apparently ‘Namjoon never shuts the ever-loving fuck up about Jin’, constantly badgering Yoongi about what you're like, saying he’s too shy to ask you directly. He’s trying to figure you out if you like him back, he’s being a little school girl head over heels with her first crush.” Jaehwan pauses, leaning over to Seokjin and pinching his cheek before he gets slapped, “If that isn’t a direct indicator of how much he likes you then you seriously are messed up.”

“Yes, and who’s fault was that?” Seokjin’s snaps, brushing Jaehwan’s hand away from him. “You can’t completely blame me for being this way.” He adds, tucking his legs underneath him and watching the wine dance in the glass to avoid the pitying eyes thrown his way.


“Considering it was your fault.”

“Now that is a goddamn lie.” Jaehwan tosses a pillow at him, trying to get a smile back on his face, “I only came up with the plan while Yoongi went through with it.” The pillow is smashed into his face as Seokjin half crawled half flew across the couch to attack him.

“He got a restraining order and we had to bail him out. It is completely your fault.”

“Ok but, no don’t-” Jaehwan pushes Seokjin back, having difficulty with speaking and not spilling his wine all over his expensive couch while trying to block the obviously angry tiger. “It did make you happier, right? You were depressed less because of what we did!”

Seokjin stops, hissing at his friend, retreating to his side of the couch. “I couldn’t be depressed, I was worried sick Yoongi would go to jail because of me.” His mind stops itself from flying to the past. It’s done, it’s over. They’ve both moved on. One had gone on before the other knew. It was a horrible time for Seokjin. But it’s over now.

Jaehwan, very obviously rolls his eyes, “Jin, you were in an abusive relationship with Hyosang that none of us knew about till Yoongi saw. Did you honestly think it wouldn’t end without some blood back then?”

He shuts his eyes, finishing off his glass of wine, he isn’t drunk enough for that conversation yet. It needs to change, or stop altogether. “I didn’t ask you to talk about my ex.” He murmurs, setting the glass down and burying his face into the cushion, wishing his head would explode with how many things are consuming his mind.

“Right, we are supposed to be talking about your journal boyfriend who is clearly gay for you but your untrusting eyes can’t see that.”

Jaehwan ends up with a couple bruises because he has never seen Seokjin move that fast before. It was a bit scary to witness. Poor Namjoon has his work cut out for him.











#285 – Dimples

July 30th, 2016


Seokjin is late. He is never late. He is always at least five minutes early, but never late. To make it worse he is late to see Namjoon at the café, and he doesn’t want to see those puppy dog eyes filled with disappointment. Yes, it’s the most adorable thing but to know he caused that disappointment is the worst thing.

So, here he is, running as fast as he can, bag clutched in his arms so nothing falls out as he speeds down the street. He nearly wrecked earlier going around a corner too fast, narrowly missing the street sign that was there.

But there is one good thing about being late. He can spy on Namjoon a bit more, like how things used to be. Namjoon merely being Namjoon, thinking he can get away without anyone noticing the little things about him. The few embarrassing moments when his drink accidently spills out of his lips and stains his shirt, or when he stubs his toe somehow while walking to the counter and back.

He could live off Namjoon’s little things- the moments that others don’t think are important when in fact, Seokjin wants more of them.  It’s like seeing the hidden hints in movies, they are hard to see, but have meanings behind them. Quite possibly it is his favorite thing.

So, he slows to a walk, seeing the café’s doors only a few feet in front of him now. Through the windows, it’s a bit empty, and he can already see Namjoon tucked in their booth, headphones in and hand moving as he writes. He smiles, finally taking his eyes off the man and quietly sneaking in through the door.

Hoseok waves, about to holler when Seokjin puts his finger to his lips, and the manager quickly understands. He gets a thumb up in response, already seeing the man leaning against the counter to spy on them- Soonyoung and Seungcheol follow in suit.

He creeps closer to their booth, thankful Namjoon always sits with his back to the door. A smile pops onto his face as he stops just over Namjoon’s shoulder, if he leans a bit more he could see what the younger keeps so secret in his journal, so his curiosity gets the better of him.

He was hoping to find words, but it’s not. Instead it’s an early sketch of something, a person it seems. The outline of the body barely down, his pencil stroking to create the hair. Next to it sits a flower, seeming to be half done.

He scrunches his nose, electing it wouldn’t be a good idea to scare Namjoon and possibly get the drawing ruined, so he quietly moves to his side of the booth, setting down his bag in the seat, but doesn’t pull anything out. He sits up straight, resting his head in his hands and simply watches Namjoon draw. Now he isn’t an artist by any means, so to translate, Seokjin can’t draw for shit. But Namjoon can clearly draw better than him. Not on par with others he’s seen but they are beautiful.

Somehow the younger hasn’t realized he’s here. He’s so in his own little world, and Seokjin enjoys seeing him like this. His face is relaxed without a worry in the world. So, he continues watching, hoping they can stay like this for a while.

Then Namjoon stops sketching, the pen’s tip hovering above the sketch. It moves to the top, writing not in Korean, no writing words in English. Not just a little, a paragraph of it. Now he’s even more intrigued as to what’s in the journal, and he takes his chances, leaning more over the table. He likes watching him write, his handwriting isn’t the best nor the worst. It’s Namjoon. It’s cute and dorky, yet elegant and smart.

“Is me writing really that interesting?”

Namjoon looks up, eyebrow cocked as he stares at Seokjin with his lips dropped open slightly, eyes flying up from the pages to meet those brown eyes who watch him in question. “You writing in English is.” Seokjin says, eyes falling back down to the pages seeing the last thing written.

“Can you understand it?”

“No, not really.”

He has never lied so much before.

He can understand English to a point, this being to that extent.

I’m so in love.

Seokjin’s heart cracks, possibly in three parts.

One for himself, one for Yoongi and Taehyung to remember him by, and the last to throw at Namjoon when he can’t take talking to him like he isn’t in love with him when it’s not a mutual feeling.

“That’s good then. Maybe one day I can teach you English.” Namjoon suggests, removing his headphones and shutting the journal that locks Seokjin’s heart inside where it shouldn’t be. He forces a smile and nods, “If you teach me something then what can I teach you?”

“How to cook.” Namjoon says instantly, “I’ve been banned from any kitchen so I never get a chance to learn.” He pouts, pouts like a puppy that again, he wants to smother with kisses and hugs. But he must stop himself. Electing to wonder why he’s banned but he can guess why.

“Now why would Joonie be banned from any kitchen?” He teases, watching red prick at Namjoon’s ears poking out from under his beanie. “It’s not because you happen to accidentally break everything, is it?”

“No, I just set my mom’s kitchen on fire…” Namjoon mumbles, shoving his hands between his thighs, scrunching his shoulders to make himself appear as small as possible. In very much the cutest fashion possible. “Well it looks like I have a lot of teaching to bestow upon you my student.”

Namjoon chuckles, smiling again with the blush dying fast, “I wouldn’t mind being your student Jin.”

Now, this is something new. Seokjin knows his mind is going a bad place, and maybe Namjoon didn’t realize what he said. His face is still calm and not a mess, thankfully Seokjin has a bit of control over his emotions, playing it off as a continuation of his own joke. “I don’t know about you but the only way I would go back to school is if my Hogwarts acceptance letter finally arrived.”

Namjoon smiles brightly, that damn dimple appearing again, “I’m still bitter about not getting one.”

“If I got it now I would gladly go.” Seokjin says, because what person wouldn’t want to go to Hogwarts? He may be twenty-three but he would gladly take seven more years of education if it is for magic. “What house would you be in?” He asks, though he’s already knows the answer.

“The best, Ravenclaw.” Namjoon says proudly, leaning back into the cushion and raising an eyebrow to see if Seokjin would care to engage in a battle of the houses with him but the elder remains quiet, waiting it seems, “You would be Hufflepuff?”

“No, Slytherin in fact.” Seokjin winks, he could be either to be honest. He thinks- along with Yoongi, that he leans more towards Slytherin than Hufflepuff. That is more Taehyung than anything. Namjoon throws his hands up in defeat, a simple grin spreading all over his face. “Oh, shit then I should bow down to the almighty being.” He bows his head slightly, chuckling as Seokjin plays along, crossing his arms, “Of course you should, I am perfection after all.”

“Yeah, you are.” Namjoon idly cups his own cheek while staring into Seokjin’s eyes, causing the elder to gush red. He has always been sure of his looks, joked around about how good looking he is. It’s normally fired back at him with replies of ‘shut it’ or agreement. But those agreements don’t send his heart to explode into a thousand- no a billion pieces.











#299 – Dimples

August 12th , 2016










Joonie what the fuck

calm down


I have this new song to show you!!!

you’ll be at the café today right?


ah I’m sorry I won’t

I have another date to go on today

I can listen to it tomorrow tho!



“Listen Jin,” It’s never a good sign to start a conversation with that from Byul-Yi, “You are going to push that poor boy away if you keep this up. And you’ll get on Yong-Sun’s bad side if she finds out you are calling this a ‘date’.” Remind Seokjin to never ask her for help again. If only she wasn’t the one person available tonight, but he needs more opinions on this whole ‘situation’ with Namjoon. And having Byul-Yi’s could help him more than Jaehwan could.

“How many times do I have to insist he isn’t into me? Why would he write those little ‘I love you’ lyrics and such while I’m there? That’s like suicide.” He pushes the salad around in the bowl, why he thought it would be a good idea to discuss this over dinner- he doesn’t know. Of course, Byul-Yi is having none of it. She points a very full fork of lettuce at him, “Stop leaving him with blue balls.” She then eats her weapon, pointing it back at Seokjin after the contents have been removed.

“If I must shove the both of you in a closet and lock the door until you either confess your love for one another or fuck, so be it.” She then points her fork at his salad, “Now eat.”

He complies, because it’s not a good idea to get on Byul-Yi’s bad side. They’ve known one another all their lives. Next door neighbors from the age of three, and still the best of friends, though she and Yoongi often battle for the ‘actual’ best friend while the other is the side hoe friend. It’s odd to see his two friend groups mixing, but the best of moments come from those.

“Ok but for real how mad would Yong-Sun be at me if she knew about this? I mean she knows we’ve kissed before.” Seokjin prods, digging into his own salad and glad for a distraction from the whole subject he should be focusing on.

Byul-Yi tosses back her hair, “One- that was a dare in middle school, two- that was before we knew we both were gay, and three- you’re practically my brother Jin. Byul-Yi would only be mad that she wasn’t invited today. She knows you aren’t any competition, plus she is a bit nosy with love when it comes to you.”

“Why me?” He asks, chuckling at the good old times. It’s been ages since Jaehwan, Byul-Yi, a few other friends and himself got drunk very young. It was an awkward moment then, not so much now- mainly laughable and something to joke about. Never once had they thought of each other that way. They were the ‘siblings separated from birth’; dubbed that by Jaehwan.

“Oh, you know she thinks of you as a younger brother too, and she’ll never get over you literally purposing for me.” She glares but her mouth smiles.  It wasn’t on purpose, nor planned that he had to say ‘will you marry me?’; oh no, in fact it was a last-minute thing. Byul-Yi lost her voice the morning of, and so when she got down on one knee, Seokjin had to speak on her behave, even if he technically wasn’t needed since Yong-Sun knew what she meant but the words are important.

It didn’t go per plan, but hey- it was a unique proposal.

“Now at the wedding do I get to be the flower girl or the maid of honor?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at the wedding that they are currently annoyed to high heavens with. So much to do and sometimes the couple doesn’t agree on what flowers should be in the wedding or what the colors should be. It’s not the best being the middleman between the two, which usually turns out to be Seokjin.

Byul-Yi tosses a crouton at him, “You get to walk her down the aisle.” Seokjin is stunned, pausing from throwing the little salad accessory back at her. “I would have put you as the flower girl but you deserve a more important role for how long you’ve stuck by our side.”

“God don’t make me cry in here.” He hisses, giving in and eating the crouton to stop himself from tearing up.

“Then don’t change the damn subject.” She interjects, “Now back to Namjoon. Explain to me how you’re feeling.”

His shoulders drop, mouth stops chewing, going dry with words. How can he explain how he feels? It’s a hurricane of different things. Blowing in new emotions he didn’t know could be moved. A calm period somewhere in the middle before more whirlwinds of things that have him thinking crazy. It’s not a bad storm, not bad in the way it makes him feel. He feels like he can fly with Namjoon’s storm consuming him. It’s the best feeling, his favorite in fact.

“Jin, speak.”


“With Hyosang, his touch- no him in general left a burn that stung afterwards. At the time, when I was a complete fool, I thought that was what love was. My breath always stuck in my throat, head a wreck. But with Namjoon, it’s the exact opposite. God- it’s- like his touch burns, but not in a bad way. I can still breathe and mostly think straight with him around.” He hides his face in his hands and continues on, “I keep being drawn into him. Wanting to stick to his side for warmth. He’s the sun that I, the iceberg, need to melt.”

It’s silent for a moment, something he didn’t want. He would rather have her talking his head off rather than this. He rests his head on the edge of the table, breath uneven. A gentle pat knows Byul-Yi is thinking, wording her sentence to something he will understand- or be beaten into him if not.

“Jin, you didn’t know how badly you were being burned till we showed you; only assuming that was what love was because of not running into Namjoon till he came into the picture. If he makes you feel like a king, he’s a keeper. Don’t lose him. I want you to finally be happy.” Her eyes soften, getting him to sit up and listen properly to her. “You’re more alive now; a fire I haven’t seen in you in ages.”


He didn’t get the answer he wanted.

Merely more go ahead and confess.

But he can’t.

Not yet at least.

“So, can I bring him to the wedding?”

“I’d be mad if you didn’t. I can’t wait to meet him.”











#300 – Dimples

September 9th , 2016

They’re kissing.

Fingers intertwined at their sides, clutching onto the other. His lips are as soft as he thought. Chapped yet the smoothest thing he’s ever tasted. And he’s smiling as their lips rest against one another’s.

He wants more.

He needs more.

It’s a mutual feeling.

Lips part only to lean against one another’s forehead, staring into each other’s eyes like they’re the undiscovered planet hidden among the stars. Noses dance, till desire pulls at one, and lips lock again. This time heated, not so innocent.

Desire floats between them, switching between dominance, teeth clanking together with one drawing out the other’s bottom lip, etching a low moan out. Fighting to keep his own from escaping, turns into a growl as hands mess around with fabric, searching for the ends to remove the already thin barrier between bodies.

“Finally,” One growls, nipping at an ear, tugging out another moan. Teeth bite into skin, leaving the tingling feeling and marks of his along the neck, down to the collar bone. It’s not enough. He needs to be closure. Needs the other under him, above him, in him. He just needs him, now .

His back pressed onto the mattress with the man he’s been in love with for who knows how long above him, staring at him with lust and love mixed in. “God, why did this have to take forever?” It’s barely a whisper, as that puckered mouth dives to work on his already sweating chest. His back arches, biting at his lip to hold back the moan as his hands snake into the perfect locks, tugging at him, begging him for more.

“Because we are both idiots.” He answers, pulling him up to connect their lips, hands hastily working on buttons and zippers, shimming out of uncomfortable jeans. “Major idiots to be exact.” He adds, arms wrapping around his tan neck to pull him closer, close enough to leave marks of his own. Letting the other rid him of the final cloth keeping them apart, and it’s still for a moment.

Both together for the first time, and it’s something to marvel at.

“God I love you Jin.” He is gasps out, catching his breath before leaning down to capture the puffy red lips again, only not heated. Sweet and caring- like him. Exactly like him. Perfect. Uncontrollably perfect and right. Everything he’s ever dreamed of, or not. Coming at the right time into his life.

With parted lips, he risks a gentle peck, “I love you too.” That smile is all he needed before his back is arching off, a loud moan he hadn’t expected as hands work on his lower body, lips kissing down his chest. Sucking in just the right places, and leaving marks on the insides of thighs.

He doesn’t regret this at all.

How could he?

He’s never been so in love that a simple thought can make his body go crazy, his heart run like a pack of wolves, and his face blushing into oblivion.

“Ready, love?” He meets those deep eyes, hair already sticking to his forehead as he looks up, waiting for the go ahead. He cups those squishing cheeks, thumb poking where the dimples would show, and do show after a wide smile pops onto that utterly cute, sexy, perfect face.

He wasn’t ready to love again, but sometimes you shouldn’t be ready for everything when it happens. You must go with the flow at that point, and so, he does. Loving where it put him, “Are you?”

Though a duck quacking isn’t what he expected when he is supposed to be having sex with Namjoon for the first time. And Taehyung isn’t supposed to be standing in the doorway holding a rainbow-colored python.

His eyes open to see the ugly beige ceiling of his bedroom. Sunlight streaming in through his curtains, partially blinding him upon waking up.

Disappointment is an understatement. Namjoon isn’t there beside him asleep, equally fucked out as him. He hasn’t had a dream like that in ages, and never have they had him going full on boner afterwards.

Seokjin groans, when he should be moaning. The world loves to mess with him, not letting him rest from his life. True he hasn’t seen, or talked to Joonie in two weeks, not since the last text of his ‘date’ with Byul-Yi. He’s been too scared to go back to the café. But what is he so scared of? That nervous tingle had set into his veins as soon as he told the first lie of going on dates to Namjoon.

He kicks the covers off, legs flailing wildly to try and relieve the tension in his lower region. Thank gosh he only sleeps in his boxers, he would be a cooked chicken in pajama bottoms and a shirt with how much he was sweating from that dream. His head aches, frustrated at how he’s still hard and not getting relief. A moan slips through his lips, rolling over to shove is face as far into his pillow as it will allow and hopefully suffocate him to death.

It would be much appreciated right now.

His hand flails out till it finds his phone, pulling it with him under the covers, distracting himself to not think of that one person. Yep, totally not thinking about him. Way to go Seokjin. It’s nine in the morning on a Saturday- his day off, Yoongi and Taehyung will be up soon and he’s got to start breakfast before they begin complaining.

With much regret, he rolls out of bed. Bare feet hitting the wooden floor and slowly making his way towards the door. Scratching at the back of his neck, stretching as he opens the door to hear two voices. Yoongi’s is easy to recognizes but the other seems familiar. Certainly, not Taehyung’s. He waits a moment, ear pressed against the door to spy, then his mind remembers the little dance major Yoongi’s been so secretive about. Maybe?

Curiosity gets the best, and he opens the door, walking down the hall still rubbing at his sleep deprived eyes. “Yoongi did you finally-”

He pauses once he enters the living room. Eyes finally focusing on Yoongi staring at him. Then the person who isn’t his roommate. The person who he basically had a wet dream about.


He blinks quickly, making sure his eyes aren’t fooling him. And no, the man is there. Eyes blown wide, hair a mess like he had a horrible night’s sleep- still in his day clothes it appears. Then a blush appears as Namjoon’s eyes divert from his, and oh god-

He’s not wearing a shirt. Only in his boxers. His arms snake around his chest and bolts back into his room. Successfully slamming the door and falling back into the bed he just left, screaming into the pillow.

“Jin I will break down your fucking door.”

“I will poison your food one of these days.” Jin says in retort to Yoongi’s threat. He finds a discarded tank top to put on- even though he already ruined the day with finding Namjoon in his living room while he is practically naked. Yeah, a good first encounter again after not speaking for a few weeks. But he can’t exactly camp out in his room forever, time to bit the bullet as the saying goes.

Thank god, he’s no longer hard.

The door opens and closes, Yoongi on the other side of the hallway with a very curious Namjoon peaking around the corner, “I mean what I said Yoongi.” There is a small ‘shut the hell up and get out here.’ Before the two disappear and wait for him to follow them. He doesn’t get to sit down before he’s spoken to by the man in question.

“You actually dyed your hair blond?” Namjoon’s blush is still very prominent, working its way up his ears, eyes seeming to be buried in Seokjin’s hair. He had it done a week ago, after the mistake of telling Taehyung what himself and Namjoon had discussed. It was only a few hours later that his hair was bleached and being murdered by the younger. “Yes, I did.” He fingers the blond strands hanging in his face, forgetting his hair is different except for when he sees himself in the mirror. It was a shock the first morning to see someone who looked like him but blond. He sits down on the seat opposite to Namjoon, yet close enough to Yoongi to reach him, “Care to inform me though of why I didn’t know of a house guest?”

“In short, he lost the keys to his apartment, Hoseok is out of town picking up a friend, and his other friend who has a spare key, wouldn’t answer his phone. So, I offered our couch.” Yoongi summarizes, both watching Namjoon growing red from embarrassment. “He tried to reject but it was three in the morning by the time we got out of the studio so I brought him here. I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“No, you should have woken me though,” Seokjin glares Yoongi, who in turn cocks an eyebrow, “You were out cold, and moaning. I wasn’t going near you with that.” There is a pit of anger curling in his stomach, wanting to shout at his friend, for saying that. But he can’t rip the other’s head off. He vaguely acknowledges hearing Namjoon mutter something; he doesn’t dare look over.

“Anyway, smelly here needs to shower before we work in my studio.” Yoongi begins, stopping Namjoon’s hand from trying to swat at him, “Got an extra set of clothes for him?” Those devil eyes are going to be gouged out at this rate.

Might as well taunt back, “We only have my clothes to give him since you’re so short and tiny like a little stuffed bear.” Seokjin raises an eyebrow, nearly daring Yoongi to say something else. It may result to a little wrestling match that happens from time to time. The only time Yoongi wins is if Taehyung helps him. “Come on Joonie, follow me.”

(“Both of you are so damn whipped it’s sickening.”)

Seokjin then walks back down the hallway, curious as to what the hell kind of noise is coming from Taehyung’s room. There is a slight idea but he doesn’t want to entertain the thought any longer. Namjoon looks vaguely curious and embarrassed as he silently follows Seokjin. “You can use whatever is in there,” He points to the closed bathroom door, bending over as he pulls open different drawers. Pulling out a plain black tee, it’ll hang off Namjoon’s shoulders but it will be long enough, and a pair of long dark pink pajama pants, “This color will look good on-”

He halfway turns to see Namjoon harshly biting his lip, eyes lingering in Seokjin’s general direction. Turning completely around he gets Namjoon’s gaze to his eyes and they are blown wide, caught in some act- oh .

Namjoon’s face is coated in pink, hands hanging low to cover. “Thank you, J-Jin.” He stutters sheepishly, then rushes into the bathroom and grabbing the outstretched clothing from Seokjin. Leaving the elder stunned as the door slams shut, the water turning on a second later.

He doesn’t wait a second longer before he rushes out of his room, face a blushing mess as he plans Yoongi’s funeral. “Min Yoongi!” He hisses, pausing at the door to see said man smiling innocently at him from the living room couch. “What is it Jin?”

“Don’t play sweet you ass.” Seokjin walks behind the couch, elbows planted on the edge as he tries to muffle his scream into the cushion. “Do you know what just happened?”

“While you were bent over getting clothes for him he got hard?”

How the hell?

“I could see it happen on the cameras I put in your room.”

Min fucking Yoongi is about to die.

Four hands battle for Yoongi’s phone, plenty of shouts ringing throughout the living room. Seokjin gets pulled from behind the couch, landing on top of Yoongi. “Since when were there cameras in my room?”

“Since you-know-who did you-know-what!” Yoongi growls, yanking one of Seokjin’s arms from his phone. Hooking a leg around the elder’s waist and rolling them over, giving Yoongi the high ground. “Why didn’t I know about this?” Seokjin retorts with a near slap in the face that would have turned the wrestling into an actual fight.

Yoongi’s free hand finds a couch pillow, shoving it in the elder’s face to get a chance to breathe, “I told you about them!”

Seokjin grunts, grabbing a flailing arm and switching their positions, “No you didn’t!”

“Yes, I did, when you were drunk on your birthday last year.” Yoongi nearly bites his hand to get it away from his phone that most likely will be cracked by the end of this.

“What?” A pillow to the side of the face, Yoongi twists them again, now straddling Seokjin. “When I was drunk? How the fuck am I supposed to remember-”


Both freeze, eyes blown wide with their breath jagged. It’s a mutual look of ‘oh shit’ as their heads twist to see Namjoon standing there with his hair wet and a towel draped over his head staring at them in bewilderment. “You take way too short of showers to be clean.” Yoongi says, now putting all his weight onto Seokjin- the elder huffing from the weight.

“Get off.” He mumbles, one hand hitting at Yoongi’s leg that is trapping his other hand. “No.”

“Fine.” Seokjin hisses, reaching behind him to find a pillow that was long forgotten, slamming it into Yoongi’s face. He goes crashing onto the floor, groaning and rolling onto his back, signaling for surrender by waving his phone.  “Disrespectful child.” He grabs the phone and stands, turning to see the look of complete shock written across Namjoon’s face.

Honestly it is a sight to see two grown men wrestling like children over a toy. A phone in this case but none the less a toy for adults. “Help me with breakfast?” He asks, trying to bypass the awkward situation from earlier. “Uh-” He has to move faster than Namjoon can reply, “Great! We’ll get started on breakfast, Yoongi wake Taehyung up.”

“Yeah yeah, in a minute.” It’s a good enough answer. Seokjin twists around without giving Namjoon’s obvious staring a glance. It doesn’t stop him from following Seokjin like a puppy into the kitchen though. He would gush at how adorable Namjoon is fresh out of the shower. Skin still a bit pink from the hot water, not to mention how much Seokjin likes to see him wearing his clothing.

They enter the kitchen, Seokjin scouting through the drawers to find the pans he needs- “You know I can’t cook, right?” He’s been told yes, curious for himself why he isn’t allowed in the kitchen anymore. “I’m cooking, you are watching.” He straightens up, placing a rather large skillet in Namjoon’s arms. “Before I cook though, dry your hair.” He turns back around, reaching high into the cupboards.

“Oh right, yeah.” A slight bang and a rustling later, Namjoon scratches at his hair through the towel, effectively drying it but also spraying the floor with water droplets. Seokjin doesn’t comment on it though; watching him out of the corner of his eyes. Lips scrunched up with a faraway gaze, daydreaming it seems. “How was your date?”

Seokjin jumps, turning his back to him. He would start off with that.

“Oh, it went alright. Nothing special.”

That’s it. Make the ‘date’ sound like there won’t be a second one. The rational side of himself is very guilty for lying, he could have just said he was going to meet a friend for dinner. The whole not speaking for a while wouldn’t have happened. Pretend there isn’t any tension, move on, also literally- “Oh that’s too bad.” Was that sarcasm?

Namjoon changes the subject quickly, almost looking uncomfortable, “At least I’m allowed in the kitchen here.” Seokjin into a giggle, throwing a look over his shoulder as he shuts the cupboard door. “Pancakes sound good?”

“They sound perfect.” Namjoon says, leaning against the counter with now mostly dried hair, awaiting Seokjin’s first order. The elder tosses around the idea of making everyone’s favorite, but seeing as it’s later than usual, he sticks to the plain pancakes, shuffling around in the cupboard for the mix. “Get me the eggs please?” He asks, and the fridge opens a second later.

“Hand me one?” Seokjin grasps the whisk, bowl in hand awaiting the eggs with his hand outstretched. Warm fingers dance across his palms, the heavy weight of the egg nearly resting but barely touching Namjoon’s fingers sends sparks up his spine-


Seokjin freezes. Namjoon jumps, pulling back the egg that was nearly in the clear but is now cracked and leaking through Namjoon’s fingers. They both glance at one another with confusion.

Yoongi comes rushing in a minute later. And right after him, Taehyung who looks how Seokjin should have been if his dream earlier were real- with an extreme blush coating his cheeks. Then at Taehyung’s back is surprisingly enough, one of Namjoon’s unnamed friends, who is in the same state as the other. Seokjin sighs and fully turns to face the three with tension running between them, “Why does no one tell me they are bringing over gu-”

“I walked in on Tae sucking his dick!” Yoongi exclaims.

Seokjin’s train of thought is completely blown out of the water. Quite frankly he’s speechless. Yoongi twists the put Taehyung in a friendly yet not-so-friendly headlock, “Under my roof?” And Taehyung’s boyfriend seems to not know what to do, smartly not trying to save him from Yoongi. “Under our roof actually- Wait that’s not the point,” Seokjin corrects, then twists to point his whisk at the boyfriend, “Who is this and why didn’t I know about another person here?”

The boyfriend throws his hands up in defeat, trying to act small behind the now free Taehyung who throws the kid a betrayed look, “My boyfriend Jungkook and-” Taehyung notices Namjoon standing close to Seokjin, “Why is Namjoon hyung here?”

Kim fucking Taehyung.

Also, Min fucking Yoongi.

“Hold up.” Now the whisk turns to Namjoon, “So does your whole friend group know mine and I’ve been left out of this completely?” It doesn’t seem fair. The world clearly loves to play with him. How the hell does his two roommates of all people, know Namjoon personally while he was watching like a stalker? Fate is a cruel thing.

Namjoon shrugs, not as shocked as himself, “It seems so.”

Breakfast goes smooth after that. After cleaning up the broken egg, Namjoon was sent to the living room while Seokjin cooked because after the whole ‘sucking dick’ fiasco, someone had to keep Yoongi from strangling the couple. (And to not break anymore eggs) He was left to ponder with his thoughts, wondering how the hell his friends had met Namjoon to begin with. He’s certain the one-time Taehyung went with him to the café the younger didn’t know Namjoon. So somewhere along the line they had met, due to this Jungkook kid who Seokjin is already liking. Odd enough that his first introduction was due to his blow job getting interrupted.

They all sit around the living room table, electing that the normal four-person table isn’t big enough for the now five beings in the apartment. Seokjin had divided the pancakes evenly, three to each and then it’s fair game for the rest. He’s silent, mostly listening to Yoongi and Taehyung still arguing , ‘Either I burn my eyes or I burn your mouth to cleanse it. ’ The younger scoffs because ‘it’s not like you’re straight, sooner or later you’ll have a dick in your mouth.’ So, the usual routine of those two going back and forth begins.

Namjoon and Jungkook on the other hand speak quietly, almost whisper like to one another. He can’t spy and listen in but something is embarrassing Namjoon to high heavens. It’s cute , Seokjin bits back a smile as he shoves pieces of pancake in his mouth, turning to watch his food before he is caught.

Jungkook elbows Namjoon in the ribs, lucky enough to have grabbed the seat next to his idiotic friend, who better get over his shyness at some point, “Compliment his food.” He hisses, tossing the goof a glare, “Or his body either one since you saw it.” Thankfully Yoongi gave him material to work with, though actually getting Namjoon to flirt or try to tell Seokjin his feelings- that’s another journey that everyone is trying to work on.

“Fine.” Namjoon grumbles, eyes going from annoyed to bashful in a fraction of a second, “Jin you-”

‘Course no one counted on the doorbell ringing.

“I’ll get it.” Seokjin stands and disappears into the hallway.

Several curses of ‘god dammit Namjoon’ echo around the table. Said blamed man can’t even apprehend and scold the disrespectful youngers due to his failure.

Seokjin makes his way towards the door, curious as to what Namjoon was about to say, and a bit pissed at whoever is ringing the doorbell. He unlocks the several gadgets that keep them in and intruders out; twisting the knob to see two faces that are surprisingly familiar. “Hoseok?” He leans against the door, seeing a shocked expression on the café manager’s face.

“Oh, hello Seokjin hyung. I forgot you live with Yoongi and Taehyung.” He gestures to the other man, though Seokjin knows him, not by name but by being friends with Namjoon. “This is Park Jimin.” Black hair, short, thick muscled, squishing cheeks and a shy gaze as he meets Seokjin’s eyes, then quickly shifts to something behind the blond. “Oh Yoongi hyung!” He says, waving and smiling.

He twists his head to see Yoongi poking out from living room, eyes softening upon seeing Jimin. Something sinister clicks in him. “Are you a dance major perhaps?” He asks, cocking his eyebrow at the slightly shocked expression and a curt nod a second later.

Seokjin beckons them in with a smirk on his face, shutting the door behind them and mouthing something only Yoongi can see, ‘you are so massively screwed’ - It’s undeniably good that he now knows who has consumed Yoongi’s mind. Jimin isn’t who he expected Yoongi to fall for, but then again, he hadn’t thought of himself to fall for someone like Namjoon.

Now he can have revenge, and hopefully get the two together.

“Join us for breakfast, I made plenty.” Seokjin begins shuffling people around, placing Jimin between Yoongi and Taehyung. Halfway to stop the arguments that will ensue later, and to mess with Yoongi who gives him the stink eye. Hoseok is stuck next to Namjoon, separating him from the younger, for some needed space. “Now what are you two doing here?”

Hoseok butters the pancakes, speaking for both, “I drove out to pick up Jimin from Busan and I got a text from Yoongi hyung saying Namjoon was crashing here since he lost his apartment keys again.” Seokjin almost giggles at again, sneaking a glance at the said forgetful man to see his cheeks dusted in pink. Best not to tease him much more. “Again?” He teases, sideways glancing at Namjoon who seems to be choking on his pancake.

“Yeah, he’s forgetful, extremely .” Jimin chuckles, happily humming along as he chews. “He forgot Kookie and I on more than a single occasion.” Now Seokjin does laugh, setting his fork down before it goes flying. Yoongi snorts into his drink while suspiciously checking Jimin out. The table erupts in laughter, earning curses and threats from the victim. Well, all except Seokjin who gets a pleading pout for help thrown his way.

“Now since you’re a threat to everything good in this kitchen-” a heated pause as a box is set on the counter, “We are going to use cake mix instead of making it from scratch.” Seokjin hands Namjoon a clean bowl and whisk, who takes it with much concentration in his eyes. Though he should be taking a break as he only now emerged from Yoongi’s den of a studio. But no, instead he wants bake a cake with him, and Seokjin’s all in to teach the giant goofball.

He places his regular apron over Namjoon’s head, tying the strings with ease. It gives him a small kick to see Namjoon in a bedazzled apron with the words ‘Hot Stuff Coming Through’ written on the chest. “I’ve already pre-heated the oven so all you have to do is mix the ingredients together.” Seokjin pats his shoulder, glancing over to see Namjoon’s eyebrows knitted together as he reads the instructions on the back of the box. “This seems simple enough.”

“Then you should have no problem, right?” Seokjin teases, placing a pan down on the counter next to the oven, “I’ll be doing the dishes while you do that.” He heads to the sink, smiling to himself as he barely hears Namjoon’s low voice as he speaks to himself over the water flowing from the faucet.

This is what it would be like if he and Namjoon were dating. At least in a nutshell. In this relaxed proximity of one another, doing mundane things yet together. He shouldn’t be so fascinated, it’s not that big of a difference. But it feels that way to him. He scrubs at a plate that was drowned in syrup, probably Taehyung. It sticks to the damn glass well, even with how much he’s scrubbing.

So, would he be the syrup stuck to Namjoon? Now he gets to thinking. He’s so enthralled by Namjoon that he can’t see where he would be if he never encountered the man in the café. It’s difficult to be attached to him for nearly two years but only became friends a few months back. Aggravating really.

He doesn’t want to like Namjoon- love Namjoon thanks to Yoongi’s realization helping. Then again, he didn’t want a lot of things that seemed to work out for the better. He didn’t want to exactly leave Hyosang in the fashion he did. It also wasn’t his choice but it did help him move on faster than he would have.

He is the syrup sticking to Namjoon.

And the sponge trying to scrub it off.

Part of him doesn’t think he is ready for another relationship. But the sappy romantic in him wants to cuddle up beside Namjoon. Wants forehead kisses, goodnight kisses, sloppy kisses that turn into a fit of giggles. Yeah, he’s cheesy as can be but that is what makes his heart beat. The fluffy stuff, the simple things, security. Knowing that he’s safe with Namjoon.

His Namjoon?


His Joonie?


He tilts his head, smiling as he sways with his hands automatically doing the work he’s so used to. Maybe he can finally fulfill that dream of couple outfits-


Seokjin stiffens, he shuts off the water and turns to see Jungkook and Namjoon in a stare off. “Hyung what were you doing?” Jungkook’s arms are crossed, a smirk written across his face. God this kid really is a little shit but he is a perfect fit for Taehyung, Seokjin knows that for sure. Namjoon on the other hand, is a deer caught in the headlights. Arms raised high above his head with some of the cake mix covering his blushing cheeks. “Baking a cake what does it look like?”

“Oh well that wasn’t what I saw.” The younger throws Seokjin a look before continuing, “I wanted to let you know Yoongi is going through your bag. I hope he finds something horrible in there.” Scratch that Jungkook is worse than Taehyung. Purposely causing mayhem wherever he goes.

“What?” Namjoon’s face pales as he dashes out of the kitchen, howling for Yoongi as he goes down the hallway. Seokjin shakes his head, smiling along as Jungkook laughs. “He’s so fun to mess with.”

“Is Yoongi really going through his things?” Maybe his friend will find the journal, it would be interesting to see how Namjoon thinks, how he writes music- to see those random doodles he draws sometimes.

“No, he’s trying to show Jimin the song he wrote for him.”

If Seokjin was drinking anything, the contents would no longer be in his mouth. “ Oh my god - I have to see this.” He quickly begins wiping his hands with a towel, “Pour the batter into the pan for me and put it in the oven, will you?”

“Sure.” Seokjin’s too excited to notice the smirk etched on Jungkook’s face.

“Hey has anyone seen my phone?” Namjoon calls out, on hands and knees looking under the couch. It’s been gone for some time; he doesn’t remember when, or how but it’s gone. “I could have sworn I had it with me in the kitchen,” He sits back on his heels, looking around the ditched living room.

Not ditched anymore as pads of feet scuffle down the hallway, “Place your bets.” Yoongi calls out, settling on the couch with Jimin on his left. Hoseok not far behind with Taehyung dragging Jungkook in. The usual meeting and game of ‘Where Is Namjoon’s Phone?’ A weekly game, or daily if he’s not completely there.

“Whoever gets the closest can order the rest to do things.” Hoseok adds, more fuel to the fire. Seokjin walks in, done with the dishes finally. The cake only has a few more minutes so he can spare to see Namjoon tortured a little longer before he pulls the dimpled man away.

“In the studio.” Yoongi’s bet.

“It’s in Seokjin’s room.” Taehyung.

“You’re all wrong, it’s not even here, It’s back at our apartment.” Hoseok.

“It’s in his pocket.” Jimin, he’s the nicest towards Namjoon during these times.

“It’s in the cake.” Jungkook.


“Do I get to play along?” Seokjin asks, leaning against the wall to watch the commotion in his living room. Calls of ‘hell yes!’ and ‘can’t leave him out or else he gets salty’ go around. “How about in the kitchen?”

Namjoon pops up, “You were the only nice one Jin, now I’ve been betrayed.” He clutches his chest, face pouting. Apparently, he was supposed to be Namjoon’s anchor but only sunk the ship faster. The others toss whatever is near telling him to get over it as he doesn’t have a person to side with him. “You brats are going to pay for this!” He shouts, blocking the incoming bullets with a pillow.

“I’ll call it.” Seokjin says, pulling out his own phone, but doesn’t call just yet. He opens the camera and begins recording this momentous event. It’s a massive war zone in his living room that is certain to become a wasteland he will need to clean later. For the moment, it’s frozen in time to see all of them smiling and laughing. From his best friends that he’s known for years to the two he barely met today. The brightest smile being from the one who’s getting teased to no end.

It’s all fun and games till a shoe gets thrown his way, “I thought you were going to find the phone? Don’t record us!” Hoseok giggles and narrowly escapes the show thrown back. Jimin pipes up to help thoroughly almost suffocating the flailing café manager with his own jacket. “Yah this is unfair!! Jin hyung I have a video of Jimin and Namjoon twerking if that will stop this torture!”

It goes dead, and Seokjin’s still recording. Jimin looks appalled and Namjoon is a ghost. Both simultaneously shouting ‘No!’ with pleas of innocence while everyone else encouraging ‘yes!’ Then it turns into a wrestling match for Hoseok’s phone, till it ends up being in Seokjin’s hands who is the only one still standing. “After we find Namjoon’s phone?”

Choruses of groans echo around as they stand, not a complete disagreement. He rolls his eyes at the adult children and ends the recording, calling Namjoon’s phone this time. The only thing he can hear is the dialing from his own device.

“Can anybody hear anything?” Namjoon asks, now standing close to the doorway. Each man stands spread out, listening in silence till Jungkook points towards the kitchen. “Something is going off in there.”

And so, they investigate. Seokjin redials Namjoon’s number for the second time. The ringtone gets louder, “What is that ringtone?” He asks, he’s never heard that song before. It’s nothing familiar to his ears yet what could it be?

“It’s a song he wrote.” Yoongi answers, shuffling past them all to enter the kitchen first, “Yeah it’s in here for sure.” Everyone enters and waits, hearing the muffled ringtone. They begin searching everywhere. The fridge, cupboards, cabinets, any place a phone could have fallen into.

And they still haven’t found it. “I shouldn’t be allowed to have a phone anymore.” Namjoon slides down the length of the wall, giving up completely. Seokjin pats the top of his head, dialing the phone again for what seems to be the hundredth time. “Don’t worry Joonie we-

“Found it.”  

All eyes snap up to Jungkook and Hoseok squatting in front of the oven, the light turned on as they stare at the cake through the glass. They open the door enough to notice the increase in volume of the ringtone. Seokjin blinks once, “How did this happen?” Looking down at Namjoon, who to be honest looks like he is having an out of body experience, “oh my god, oh my god, oh my god-”

Seokjin turns off the oven while Jungkook pulls out the now ruined cake, and places it on the counter. Six heads crowd in a circle as they see the screen still bright from the missed calls. Somehow, unknown to him- Namjoon cooked his phone into the cake. It got into pan somehow and no one noticed it till it was already cooking.

“I’m banned from the kitchen?” Namjoon lowly asks from his still slumbered state.

“Not banned- Only need extreme supervision from now on.” Seokjin finds a knife, cutting out a rectangle shaped piece of phone cake and moving it from the pan to a plate. The others shuffle utensils around, curious to see if the phone affected the cake much. They won’t know unless they’ll be dead tomorrow. Seokjin decides the to taste it too, Namjoon did work hard on it after all. “It tastes good Joonie.” It’s truthful, of course not as good as his own but as far as a beginner goes, it’s good.

It seems to put a small sparkle in Namjoon’s eyes, and Seokjin winks to brighten it.

“Now as you can tell I won!” Jungkook raises his fork high into the air, using it as a scepter of sorts. “So only two will be tortured. The others get off easy for the day because I have a special request that will happen today.” He stuffs his face with more of Namjoon’s cake, nose scrunching up towards the end with the devil showing its ugly head.

This can’t be good.

“Jin hyung must kiss Namjoon hyung on the cheek.”

The four spared erupt in cheers.

Seokjin freezes,

and Namjoon stares at Jungkook with dead eyes.

They are pulled into the living room, Namjoon kneeling with Jimin on his side to keep him still. Seokjin is shoved down next to him, hand lying on Namjoon’s shoulder to hold him steady.

This is in fact his worst nightmare. He wants so badly to get over Namjoon while the rest of the boys want to see it move forward. Now he is being forced to go with those feelings and kiss Namjoon. His heart races at the thought, yeah, he’s wants to but not like this. No, not on a dare but he won’t get out of this at all. “Guys this isn’t necessary chose something else-”

“Jungkook is dead to me.” Namjoon hisses, eyes squeezed shut as he has already digested this and isn’t going to fight them back. He must be thinking it’s best just to get it over with, but Seokjin can’t even do that. No, no, absolutely not. This is the poison that’s going to keep him stuck on Namjoon.

But the squawking pelicans won’t stop encouraging him, yelling at him. Someone’s pushing him closer to Namjoon, having to clutch his shoulder to keep him steady on his feet. This is how he dies, is it the best way to go? Maybe. “Do I have to?” He whines, begging the others to not make him, but no, they want to see him die.

“I’m sorry Jin.” Namjoon mumbles low, mouth set in a straight line as he waits. Seokjin looks up, silently praying a meteor comes crashing down to kill him now. The closest thing to get himself to go through with it is slapping himself. Laughing all the while to keep his mind from thinking too hard about this. It’s just a punishment. Namjoon is clearly fine with it, and that only hurts Seokjin’s heart more as the relaxed attitude makes him think his feelings aren’t mutual. So why should his?

He can do this. It’s not a romantic kiss, but maybe it can spur his heart to move on. Only one way to figure it out. Scooting closer he slaps his own cheek, already feeling the red popping up as he laughs, laughs probably harder than he should. Having to rest his weight on Namjoon’s shoulder as everyone around him is encouraging him.

This is downright unhealthy for him.

He leans forward, lips fully planted on Namjoon’s soft cheek.

His heart explodes and jumps, the opposite as it begs for more, and he pulls back. Instantly jumping up and sprinting off to his room while laughing his head off. He really has it bad for the dimpled goof. That’s fucking great.

Meanwhile, after Seokjin ran off, everyone else is shouting. Namjoon promptly flopped on the floor, face down- Jimin rolling on the ground next to him with this cheesy smile. Jungkook throwing pillows at Namjoon, Taehyung and Hoseok screeching their lungs out.

“I’m going to go jump off a cliff.” Namjoon cries into the rug.

It was a successful day in the apartment, some would say.


(“How did you know it was in the cake?”

“I walked in on him taking pictures of Jin hyung so I yelled and he threw it and it landed in the cake mix.”

“You little shit.”)











#338 – Dimples

October 24th , 2016



Today is the day.

He’s going to tell him.

Or try to at least.

He promised himself he would.

Taehyung and Yoongi too.

He would have done it earlier, but let’s face it- he chickened out each time.

Seokjin’s tired of his heart aching from the separation. From the lack of touch. He either will get rejection that feels more possible. Or get Namjoon, Namjoonie, Joonie as his boyfriend. The mere thought has his heart clenching.

But the possibility per his calculations is small. The odds are against him. The whole kiss fiasco situation happened and Namjoon didn’t look nearly as flustered as he did. No blush, nothing. It’s like he accepted it and moved on. Not caring about it. He tried to think of it that way too. He’s Seokjin though, and he can’t get over Namjoon like that. The man has found his way into every fiber of Seokjin, and it’s hard to untangle the fibers from one another.

If rejection comes his way, then he can finally have closure. Move on, and remain friends. Friends only. Yes, he can do that. He will try. He must. He may be the only one to get hurt, but that’s ok.

Seokjin nods to no one in particular, pulling open the glass doors to the café, waving at Hoseok who lingers in the front. His fingers clasp around his bag strap, slowly lowering himself into the booth. God why did he think he could go through with this? Namjoon isn't even here yet he’s a fumbling mess. He leans his head back, groaning as he rubs at his eyes. Slapping his face a few times as he lets his hands fall to the table in dramatic fashion. Head soon following with eyes to land on the journal on the table.

The white cover burning his guilt further. When Namjoon finds out about the Dimples journal, he’s going be completely disgusted. This damn thing has caused him pain, un-welcomed pain he didn’t ask for. With a bit of anger, he reaches over pulling it closer to him and flips it open to a random page.

Only, that isn’t his handwriting.

The date on the page he recognizes.


February 12th, 2015.

The first time they made eye contact.

Mystery boy in the café takes my breath away.

Underneath is a detailed picture of himself with question marks circling him, he’s like a prince, neatly written beside the drawing.

It’s Namjoon’s journal. His lyric journal. His life it seems. But Seokjin’s not lyrics, or music for that matter so why, why is he in here?

He flips to the beginning of the journal, going over the in-depth lyrics that are filled with sadness, loneliness, joy, a range of emotions. Looking for when this all began. And he finds it. Some weeks after Seokjin himself had started taking notes on Namjoon. That’s when the lyrics morphed into utter chaos, pages destroyed. Words scattering the paper every which way. The songs moving from depression to light, somehow including him.

I don’t know why he’s the sun in this dark meadow of hell. But damn, the sun sure looks nice in a pink sweater.

It goes beyond lyrics too. Namjoon took notes on him. That one day the kitchen at his job exploded and his hair was messed up; Joonie called it a cute bird’s nest. The time he came in after working out and was glistening in sweat, the time he came in from a rather bad night after drinking away his pain.

Namjoon kept writing about him, on side notes, full on pages about him. Writing his own emotions in, saying his heart wouldn’t stop pounding, wanting to man up and go over to ‘Prince’ as his nickname is in the journal.

Seokjin doesn’t know how much more his heart can take, electing to look away for a moment to gain composure. This is a lot to take in, a lot to get his mind to understand he might have a better chance. An actual chance.

He continues, finding the entry when Namjoon sent that damn cup of tea he fretted over so much.

This is embarrassing. I should not have done that. Why did I listen to Jimin and think this was a good idea? But he looks so cute and watching only from afar hurts. Painful like falling, falling for him it seems. I hope he accepts it, I had to bribe Hoseok to tell me his favorite drink. Fuck he’s walking over there, I gotta pretend I have no clue what’s going on- HE DRANK ALL OF IT :,) I really really really like him. Of all the people I’ve dated, none make me feel this idiotic and invincible. I’m excited to see what happens. And punks if you’re reading this, I’m beating your asses.

Seokjin smiles at the memory- now he gets an exclusive insider view of Namjoon’s head and no long having to wonder what he is thinking. Reading this is giving him years back that he thought he had lost fussing over Namjoon. There are entries in here too that aren’t by Namjoon. Jimin, Jungkook, Hoseok and even Yoongi is in there once; all signed their names underneath what they said. Mostly telling him to stop being shy, and stop being a creep.

He flips to the next couple of pages, seeing where Namjoon has about a heart attack writing over the same sentence, on the very day of their fateful first encounter.

Today is the day. I’m going to do it. I’m going to meet him. I’m going to talk to him. Is it possible to be this excited to finally learn his name?

The next notes aren’t all that different from his own. In Namjoon’s point of view of course of the beginning of their friendship. Namjoon would draw a little flower, a different type each day along with whatever in the conversation struck him the most. It seems he wrote down what he thought he would look like with blond hair before they even discussed it. But he quickly added, he’s so perfect, his flaws are perfect. How do I tell him?

Seokjin mentally slaps himself as he reads Namjoon’s thoughts of when he was lying about the dates. The poor handwriting is sloppy, upset and sad about the ‘date’, god now he really regrets it. There’s a bigger drawing of himself, to fill the lack of words since their meeting didn’t happen that day. With extra detail, drawing his fingers in their crooked fashion and labeling at how much Namjoon loves his hands. His ugly hands that he’s self-conscious of. Someone loves them- loves him. It pains him to read on with the second ‘date’, barely readable writing and a tear stain.

Seokjin’s heart descends to his stomach, a burning sensation flying up his throat. His friends were right. He’s been too occupied with his own feelings, his own selfish needs to get out of love with Namjoon. He became blind to the younger’s emotions that played across his face, in his texts, in the songs he showed Seokjin.

Because the original versions of the songs were written for him. Only changed for everyone else. His name being in the lyrics Namjoon wrote. He poured his heart into the lyrics, and Seokjin stomped on them.

I’m so in love with Seokjin.

It sits at the top of the page, crushing him from the inside. Seokjin feels his mind going haywire, breath jagged and unsteady. He can do this.


Oh no .

Seokjin looks up to see Namjoon standing a few feet away from the table. His chestnut eyes staring at his journal in Seokjin’s hands.


“Forget it.” Namjoon’s eyes look broken, anger lying in them as he unclenches his fist with something falling out of them. Seokjin rises to reach out, but in the next second, Namjoon runs out the café, leaving behind his belongings and a necessary conversation. “Namjoon!” He calls out, hoping the younger would turn, but it makes him disappear faster.

He’s left halfway out of the booth, staring where Namjoon was mere seconds earlier. Did that just happen? Namjoon looked terrifying angry yet scared all in the same time frame. Seokjin knows he read that without asking but he didn’t know it wasn’t his. It has the same cover as his, the off-white that’s beat up in one corner. They are identical from the outside.

The only difference was the cover on Namjoon’s that now lies on the floor. He picks it up, hoping someone has answers for him.

“He’s an idiot.” Hoseok starts, leaning over the counter. The man’s face contorts in annoyance, “That cover got wet and he didn’t want the journal to get soaked too so he took it in the bathroom to dry it off.”

“Why did he run? I didn’t even get to say anything.” Seokjin starts, crashing back into the booth with a defeated sigh. The galaxy book cover sits in his limp hand, this all happened because of this stupid thing? “I don’t understand why he ran.” He tangles his fingers into his blond locks, pulling at them. Maybe pain will get him to think of something. Namjoon ran off without taking anything. His belongings sit in the seat across from him, laptop, phone, journals, his life in a nutshell. Yet when Seokjin saw what’s in the journal, Namjoon abandoned everything.

“He runs when confronted with something he can’t solve through music,” Hoseok says, barely watching Seokjin as he works. “Go after him, corner him where he can’t escape alright?”

Seokjin doesn’t need to be told twice. “Watch our stuff for me?” He asks, shuffling through bag for his journal, his Dimples journal. The one that if the roles had been reversed, and Namjoon found and read through it, he would have done the same.

Hoseok smiles, “Good luck.” The other employees currently present pop up too, giving their own wishful thoughts. “Go get the goof!” Soonyoung shouts, getting an elbow in the ribs from Jihoon who in turn is more helpful than the others, “I’ve been rooting for you since day one, you’ll get your happy ending for sure.”

Seokjin doesn’t have an idea of where he’s going to find Namjoon, but something he noticed a while back when he had his phone caught his eye. So, he swipes Namjoon’s phone off the table, pockets his own and rushes out the door with his journal clutched in his chest. It’s time for this hiding to be over with.

He stops just outside the door, hitting the button on the phone to awaken it from its slumber. The lock screen, that giant tree, he knows it. Namjoon talked about it once, being the other calm place he ventured to often. If his suspicions are right, that is where Namjoon went.

If not, then he’ll work his way from there till he finds him. It could take all day, all night, more than one day, but god be damned he will find him.

With a newfound determination, he runs towards the river where his investigation will start. He doesn’t stop once, nearly getting ran over by a car and a train along the way. He hasn’t thought of what he’s going to say or do, but he owes Namjoon something. An apology too at that. His legs take him far, begging him to stop after a while, only giving in when he reaches the river.

Leaning over with breath ragged and heavy, he glances at the tree still over a mile away, eyesight blurry but he must keep going. Namjoon’s there. His heart lies there. He goes on, walking now to catch his breath and hopefully still can speak complete sentences without dying.

Now he can think on what to say.

His eyes watch the ground as he walks, unknowing how fast time flies with his mind up in the clouds till his foot catches on one of the many giant roots of the tree that stick out of the ground. He makes an ungodly sound as he falls, arms bracing for impact as he hits the dark soil with too much force. Pain volts up his arms as he pushes himself on his back, groaning in pain. He looks up into the sky, watching the sun spray through the branches, but he wasn’t expecting to have someone looking down on him.

“Namjoon.” He whispers, staring at the widened eyes of the younger. Seokjin stands quickly, ignoring the pain and wipes away the dirt, shuffling closer to the base of the trunk. “What are you doing up there?”

Up high in the tree sits Namjoon, sitting close to the middle of it and clutching to it for dear life. His eyes blown wide, feet dangling off, frame shaking harshly, it’s easy to tell from all the way down where Seokjin is. Namjoon’s at least fifteen feet in the air by his guess, but he doesn’t comment.

“Your bleeding.” It’s quiet. Almost too silent to hear, but Seokjin can read lips well so he knows. The fool is worried about the blood spewing from his scratched forearms but Seokjin could care less. He rolls his eyes and crams the spine of his journal in his mouth, hand securely finding the first low branch that will hold, and swings up. The bark is rough, but the way Seokjin figures is that this is the only way things will progress. Up in the air where Namjoon can’t escape so easily.

It takes him a bit but he pulls himself up enough to stand on the branch lower than Namjoon, arms being able to rest on the branch that’s been occupied for a while. “What the hell was that?” He asks, almost harshly, grunting as he grips the branch with one hand to hold him steady, the other to hold his journal.

“I panicked.” Namjoon mumbles, banging his head softly on the tree, avoiding Seokjin’s eyes with tears in his own. He doesn’t want to see the man crying ever again. Let alone be the cause of it. He gently taps Namjoon’s knee that isn’t far from his face, trying to be soothing, despite causing the poor man to panic and climb a tree.

Namjoon finally looks at him, mouth drawn in a straight line with dead eyes, “I’ve been in love with you for who knows how long and those feelings aren’t mutual-”

“Shut it.” Seokjin deadpans, finding a groove in the branch to settle his foot in, Namjoon flinches, eyes slamming shut in anticipation of something. To be hit? No, not his Joonie. He would never harm him. But the younger seems to think different.

He huffs and pulls himself up to stand on the branch, one hand on the branch above to keep him steady for what he’s about to do. “Here.” Seokjin holds out the journal in front of Namjoon’s face, “I saw your secret, it’s only fair you see mine.” The look of confusion is a sight to see, but Namjoon takes the journal away, flipping it over to examine the covers first.

Knowing this will take a while, Seokjin continues to climb, pulling himself up two more branches till he sits on the last one able to hold a person. He swings his legs onto the branch, leaning against the base, shutting his eyes to the world. Listening to the swish of pages, etching away the secret he’s held and his own confession that is as many pages in that journal.

The last thing that was written in there was that day, the day Seokjin dreamed about Namjoon, found him in his apartment, cooked breakfast for him, baked a cake and lost his phone in said cake- and oh god, the kiss. That took nearly two whole pages by itself.

The final words written were the hardest to write.

How to love him from afar is the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do. I began watching him to create a character that people could love, and I did that. But I didn’t mean to fall in love with the inspiration for him.

He waits for Namjoon.

Eventually falling into rhythm with the pages turning till it stops and the cracking of the spin closes.

“You love me ?” It’s a question yes, but not for Seokjin to answer. “You love me?” Again, quiet and unbelieving. “ You love me!” There it is. Seokjin smiles as Namjoon shouts it again, voice loud and proud. Scream it to the water, the birds, the bugs, the town, the country, the whole damn world. Say it to Seokjin. It’ll mean the most there. Straight to his heart.

He chances a glance down, only seeing the top of Namjoon’s silver locks. God what he would give to see that face right about now- The best ideas could kill him. He’s always wanted to try this though. Chalk it up to him being a cheesy romantic.

As quietly as possible, with Namjoon still laughing hysterically and exclaiming that yes, Seokjin loves him he moves down a branch. “ He loves me. He loves me - Seokjin loves Namjoon!”

He sits the opposite direction, locking his legs together, hands wrapped tight around the branch as he lets gravity pull him down, face even with Namjoon’s. Of course, the younger hasn’t noticed. He takes this time to examine the happy consuming Namjoon. It’s in every fiber of his being, his eyes shut, the blush being proof, and those damn dimples. Even upside down he’s the most beautiful thing in existence.

He can’t stay quiet any longer.

“And Namjoon loves Seokjin?” It’s to tease, but the way Namjoon’s eyes blow to the size of saucers makes him think he went a bit too far. “Did I assume wrong?”

“That’s dangerous-!” Namjoon mutters, eyes roaming the upside-down form of Seokjin, following the body up to the next branch. “You could die if you fall you know?” Gaze now dropped back to his face, plush pink lips frowning to him, but smiling.

“Not more dangerous than falling for you that is.” Seokjin pushes his face forward, nose dancing with Namjoon’s, “Ay Dimples?” He giggles, putting a scoff on Namjoon’s face.

And that’s that.

Namjoon tilts his head up- Seokjin down- giving way into emotions that have been dormant for too long of time. Eyes fluttering shut as lips connect for the first time.

Now they are finally kissing.

Morphing perfectly together, a silent language playing between their skin. It’s perfect. Even in this odd position of Seokjin hanging off a branch, and Namjoon clutching the journal and the tree to hold himself steady.

It’s not the most ideal first kiss.

But it’s their first kiss.

Odd and sloppy like their way of coming to terms with feelings for one another.

Namjoon leans in, pushing against Seokjin for more, and the elder happily agrees. He explores the cavern of Seokjin’s mouth, getting him to moan in the way he’s only dreamed about and-

He pulls back, realizing something he forgot in the heat of the moment.

Seokjin’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion, mouth resting in a pout.

“I hate to stop, I really do it’s just-” His eyes look away from Seokjin to fatally look down, at the ground, where he sits, high up in a tree. The ground so far down. “If I stay up here any longer I’m going to die .”

Hold up. Back up to however long ago Namjoon thought it would be a good idea to climb a tree. Seokjin pulls himself back up, easily stepping down to Namjoon’s branch and sitting beside him, “You climbed a tree when you’re afraid of heights?” He needs clarification.

“I told you,” Namjoon whines, both arms wrapped around the trunk, “I panicked.” He throws Seokjin a pained glance, begging for help. There is only one thing for him to do, easy really. It starts small as he bits his lip to stop from smiling till he’s laughing, clutching onto Namjoon’s shoulder to keep him steady on the branch.

If it was anybody else to get climb a tree all the while afraid of heights, he wouldn’t be this way. But this, this is so Namjoon. “That’s adorable.” He manages to squeak out as he laughs, earning a defeated look from the poor suffering man. He was so panicked to get away from Seokjin that his fight or flight senses sent him up into his fear, not acknowledging it till he was already up the branches.

“This is so you,” He giggles, hand moving from Namjoon’s shoulder to ruffle the silver locks, “How can you be this cute?” He asks, getting Namjoon to blush in response. But before he explains himself in full, he should get them both on the ground. “Watch where I put my feet and follow ok? Wait till I get to the ground before you begin.”

Without an answer, he begins descending, stretching to reach the little grooves that scatter the aging tree. It doesn’t take him that long, only a bit extra due to his arms really stinging from the scratches now. Once he’s dangling from the last branch, only a couple feet below him where it won’t harm him to jump. He lands with ease, eyes looking up to see Namjoon staring at him, bottom lip shaking. He’s terrified, but to get over the fear of heights, he’s got to fly.

“C’mon, I believe in you.” Seokjin says, voice soft to relax the tension floating through Namjoon’s body. “You climbed a tree to escape me, so with that thinking- I’m scarier than heights to you.”

“That’s not-”

“Then prove me wrong Joonie.”

The little push was the kicker. Namjoon puffs out his cheeks, chewing on the inside and turns, going ten times slower than Seokjin did but he’s still descending. Not exactly putting his legs in the right places, one leg nearly wrapped around the tree, but they are long enough. All while whimpering yet giving himself words of encouragement. He’s got a point to prove wrong, and god be damned he’ll do it.

He’ll conquer it like he did music. Like he did living on his own when his family told him he couldn’t, and when they disowned him for being himself. He beat that fear, he can beat this tree to get to Seokjin who feels the furthest away.

It kept him from looking down, kept him moving- till his hands are the only thing holding him up, feet slipping out of the groove it was nested in to hold while he pulled his other foot down. Namjoon dangles from a branch still sort of high-high enough for the fear to have him shivering. Eyes widen as he looks at the ground below him. It feels so far, that if he drops, he won’t ever get up again. It looms under him like a vacuum.

That is till Seokjin is standing directly under him, eyes squinting against the sun and arms outstretched. “Let go. I’ll catch you.”

It was dumb, yes, very idiotic in fact. He let go as soon as the word ‘catch’ escaped those pink lips he memorized to draw so easily. Though Seokjin was expecting to have a moment to prepare but a falling Namjoon enters his open arms. If a second can count as a moment that is.

His arms barely wrap around Namjoon’s thin waist before they go crashing down, Seokjin taking most of the fall as they land, a pain shooting up his back but it’s alright. Nothing much he can do to stop gravity. That includes them rolling down the sloped hill, nine, eight times? He lost count; whining and hissing out profanities till they finally stop.

Namjoon lies on the bottom, support most of Seokjin who groans with his head resting on Namjoon’s chest. “I told you I would catch you, didn’t I?” He murmurs, pushing himself over to lie on his back in the soft grass next to his man-made cushion. It’s not as comfortable.

“You did catch me.” Namjoon says, rolling his head to the side to see those brown eyes already watching him. “Thank you Jin.” He moves his hand slowly, finding Seokjin’s in the grass, intertwining their fingers as they lie in a comfortable silence with the sunset painting orange across the sky.

It’s perfect.

“What are the chances,” Seokjin begins, other hand clasping his journal that somehow accompanied them through the fall, “-that we both happen to have a notebook on each other? Yet for very different reasons. One for a story, the other for music. Odd don’t you think?” His eyebrow raises, softly smiling at Namjoon who merely stares, no emotion till their eyes finally meet.

“Fate I would say, very slow fate at that,” He pulls Seokjin’s arm towards him, flipping it over to see the scratches still red, a few still bleeding, “We were crawling towards one another first as we sat in the café. Somehow aware of the other’s existence.” He uses two fingers to slowly drag across one of the wounds. “Then it began to pick up to a walk, when we first meet officially.” The fingers pick up, taking baby steps as it walks circles around his palm. “Finally, fate began running as we talked, that day in your apartment-” The blush stands out so well against his tan skin, Seokjin misses the walking fingers turning into running.

“After too long of time, fate flew when I walked out to see you reading my journal and you chased after me.” The simple and loving touch leaves his skin, flying up to bop Seokjin’s nose. “It’s crazy though, for the longest time I was only capable of loving you through lyrics. It was all I could do with those feelings.”

“I was in there to take notes to create characters and you popped up so often I had to make a separate journal for your entries. I tried my hardest not to fall for you. Tried is the thing.” Seokjin rolls his head to lean against Namjoon’s shoulder, sighing in relief. It feels nice to not hide anything anymore.

A weight lifted off his chest that he doesn’t have to worry about Namjoon finding the journal that makes him look like a stalker. “Early on I noticed you always writing, I assumed you were some sort of secret agent in disguise to catch someone. It was pretty hot.” Namjoon admits, smiling brightly even with the red coating his cheeks.

Half of him wishes he was a secret agent, it would make things seem less stupid that he was people watching to create a novel that’s likely to never be published. “I was in such a shock when you pointed out the main character was basically you.”

“I was ecstatic,” Namjoon rolls onto his side, hand supporting his head with his fingers dancing along Seokjin’s arm, “It got me thinking I had a chance. Though I was hurt when you said you were going on those dates.”

“Ok,” Seokjin forgot about that little detail, “I lied, I was actually talking to my friends about you.” He raises his eyebrows, hoping Namjoon won’t be too mad about it. Namjoon doesn’t look it, a shocked expression shows itself more than anything, with a smirk added into it. “Really? What did they say?”

“Jaehwan said you obviously liked me and that I needed to get over the untrustworthiness my last ex installed in.” He pauses, biting down on his lip at thought of him . “Byul-Yi said for me to stop pushing you away and- I quote her ‘stop leaving him with blue balls’.” He coughs to space out the last part, “Also she would be upset with me forever if I didn’t bring you to her wedding that’s coming up.”  

“Huh, I like them already.” Namjoon admits, planting a quick kiss to Seokjin’s nose. Chuckling at Seokjin scrunching up his face from the kiss, wiggling closer to his chest. “What about this ex though? You don’t have to tell me if you're uncomfortable but I’m curious to know so I can be the opposite of them.”

Seokjin grins at the sincerity in his voice. He knows Namjoon isn’t jealous about the sudden pop up of his ex in the conversation, generally curious. It’s an attribute of Namjoon being himself. That’s already the opposite of Hyosang. “There’s no need because you’re already the opposite. Perfectly you, being my dimpled dork.” He raises his head enough for their noses to dance again, slowly but surely inching forward.

“I love you.” His voice low and deep, eyes lingering on Seokjin’s lips. He’s waited so long, and he can’t wait any longer. “I love you too.”

Seokjin brings their lips together, hand snaking around Namjoon’s neck to pull him closer. The younger releasing their intertwined fingers to cup those pink dusted cheeks he’s only ever dreamed of touching. The kiss is gentle, not heated, loving as they act as one. There lying in the grass under the tree with the last few rays of light sweeping across the land.

They break apart for a breather, leaning foreheads against each other. Seokjin peppering Namjoon’s face with gentle kisses, “We probably should go back.”

“Why?” Namjoon whispers, finger running down Seokjin’s arm, “Everything we need is right here.”

Seokjin can’t contain the cheesy. It sucks being a sappy romantic, heart pumping at anything. Especially if it’s Namjoon. “Our bags. We don’t want a repeat of you sleeping on my couch at three in the morning, do you?”

“I wouldn’t mind to be honest.”

Seokjin wouldn’t either.











Dimples #???

January 9th , 2017


“Listen-” Taehyung is serious, like serious serious which is not Taehyung on a regular basis, “He’s chiseled, really chiseled.” The brunette puts down his drink, hands stretched out to clutch Namjoon’s. Who in all honesty doesn’t understand why he feels like Taehyung is about give the sex talk when he’s merely going to workout with his boyfriend. “I’ve seen my own boyfriend shirtless before so yes, he is very toned Tae.”

The younger is still persistent, “No you don’t understand, you’re going to work out with him- you’re going to die .” What is it with these pity looks? How can he die from agreeing to be a workout partner for his boyfriend? It’s what good lovers do. They do literally anything to pop a smile onto their face. He’s no different. So why is he getting looks like he voluntarily signed up for a trip to hell?

“He works out a lot, so he’s extremely toned and good looking-”

Yes , I know he’s the most beautiful thing on the planet.”

“Don’t interrupt because you haven’t seen him lower.”

Ok look he knows he and Seokjin are taking things slow. Since they technically didn’t begin their relationship in the right order. Let’s face it, who falls in love with a person by journal entries and way too many café visits. ‘two dorks made in weird heaven’- courtesy of Jungkook.

They’ve only been dating a couple of months, going slow to work Seokjin back into a relationship as things did pop up that make him on edge as it reminded him of his past relationship. What Namjoon would go back in time and find Seokjin before that horrid being. Though with the very vague explanation Yoongi told him, he’s got his comeuppance.

He does question what Taehyung means by that though, trying not to let his jealousy seep through his words, “And you have?” Don’t get him wrong he loves taking things slow, but he wants things to pick up a bit. He holds himself back for Seokjin. Waiting for the elder to give him the go ahead. Technically he already has, only each little session has been interrupted before they could do much.

“Oh yeah. Totally. Way your type.” Taehyung nods, so nonchalantly talking about Seokjin’s dick like he was talking about that anime he loves so much. He uses a finger to rub at his eyes, trying to get an image out of his head, “How can one’s penis have a type?”

“I was saying Jin is your type but yeah, his dick is your type too.” He winks, of course to tease his friend who flusters possibly the easiest out of all of them, “Your so dumb yet so intelligent I don’t understand.” He adds, reaching up to lightly slap the red cheeks.

“No seriously I don’t understand how a penis can have a type?” Namjoon mutters, pushing Taehyung’s hand away. The younger rolls his eyes, popping the lollipop out of his lips, pointing it at Namjoon, “Don’t worry, I’ll make a visual to help you understand.”

“No that’s not-”

The floor squeaks with Seokjin’s approaching form, “Ready babe?”

It never ceases to amaze Namjoon how easily breathtaking Seokjin is. It doesn’t matter the outfit- five layers of clothing, three, or close to nothing, he can’t breathe at times. This moment is no different. Somehow making workout clothes the most jaw dropping sight in existence. Clad in gray sweatpants that hang off his hips, a black hoodie thrown over his chest with a dark navy headband holding back his blond bangs. Absolute utter perfection. He’s speechless. It throws him back to the first time he ever laid eyes on him. “Hi.” He says lightly, head resting in his hand propped up on the table, eyes half-lidded as he gazes at the prince of his dreams.

“I think he popped a boner.” Taehyung hisses behind his hand, knowing Namjoon’s too out of it to pay any attention to him any longer. He gets a hand slapped on his neck, by neither of the parties included, Yoongi happened to be walking through the living room in time to spy and/or get food to take back to his room. “You didn’t have to say it as his eyes already let everyone know.”

Seokjin cocks his eyebrows, hands on his hips as he thinks of something to yell at his roommates. For once though, he’s got nothing. “Did you scar my poor innocent Joonie?” He questions, eyes narrowing at the youngest in the room, who is usually the cause of such inappropriate conversations.

“I have done no such thing!” Taehyung scoffs, lips dropping into a pout, “I’ve passed on my wisdom now he needs to put them into action!” And off the younger goes, rushing out of the room before he is beheaded by the rest. Seokjin and Yoongi share a look, ‘what are we going to do with him?’

“Good luck Namjoon, it sucks ass.” Yoongi clamps onto Namjoon’s shoulder, giving him a warning look. A pity look is something he never thought he would see from Yoongi. So, this might have been a bad idea to decide to workout with Seokjin.

He doesn’t get to ask why before Yoongi slips off too, leaving the couple in silence. “C’mon babe.” Seokjin runs his hand down to grip Namjoon’s wrist, easily tugging the younger behind him. “Since you haven’t worked out in a while,” Seokjin intertwines their fingers, opening the apartment door for the both, closing it thereafter, “I was thinking we could do a bunch of ab routines.”

To be real truthful, Namjoon isn’t listening. He’s hearing Seokjin’s voice. Not necessary the words or however many reps of whichever workout though. He’s focused on the way Seokjin’s eyes crinkle when he smiles, the way his cheeks puff out, the way he laughs, anything about Seokjin really. It’s fascinating; his creative thoughts itching to put it into words. (Not like he hasn’t already done that a million times.)

“…so, I know it will be difficult but you’ll be fine!” Seokjin finishes, turning to glance at Namjoon who was already staring with that concentrated gaze, “Joonie?”

“Oh yeah, that sounds fun.” Namjoon bursts out, leaning over to dust Seokjin’s face with a quick kiss, leaving the elder flustered. He’s never going to get used to the way Seokjin gushes, embarrassed as he lightly slaps his own face, glancing anywhere but Namjoon. Once upon a time he used to be amazed with himself because he unknowingly (and unwillingly) fell in love with a stranger who always wrote in those journals.

Speaking of, he hasn’t seen those journals in a while. They still venture to the café at least once a week, but now Seokjin rarely brings anything except his laptop on occasion. “Hey babe?” He asks, tugging the blond closer to him, enough to tickle the pink cheeks with his nose, “Are you still working on that novel of yours?”

It wasn’t what Seokjin was expecting, given the furrowing of eyebrows, “Yeah, though, why did you ask that suddenly?”

“You haven’t been writing in the journals.” Namjoon now leads the way to a gym he hasn’t any clue of its whereabouts, Seokjin seeming to slow down at the answer. “Oh, huh, well-” Seokjin pauses, he himself hadn’t but then again, he had- in a sort of out of body experience. “I’ve gotten to the stage where the characters build the story, having already been formed themselves.”

“So, the characters are complete?” He asks, tossing his head over his shoulder as they walk, squeezing the fingers tangled in his. Seokjin smiles, leading the way once again as he turns sharply to the right, causing the poor clumsy man to trip. Being caught of course by Seokjin who giggles like a child. “All except the prince.” He picks up the pace, pulling Namjoon with him, “He’s forever growing.”

Namjoon sheepishly smiles, hiking the sports bag higher on his shoulder to keep up with the prancing blond. “What about the witch?” He may resemble the prince, but he feels that he identifies with the witch more. Of course, he only has what Seokjin tells him to base his comparisons on.

“Oh, he’s there. Waiting for the moment to speak to the prince. He’s scared and timid.” The entrance to the gym loams in front of them, the doors wide open to welcome all. “Don’t worry though, he’s stronger than he knows.”

“I can’t wait to read it.” He says, letting Seokjin pull him into the gym. He only gets a wink before his body is put through one hell of a workout.

He should have expected this. But then again, he shouldn’t have to.

Seokjin had walked out of his bedroom, letting Namjoon sleep a bit longer- only to run into the smirking faces of Byul-Yi and Yong-Sun sitting in his living room with Yoongi on the opposite seat. “Did you have to let them in?” He asks, aimed at his best friend who looks to be in his own turmoil. It’s too early in the morning for their excitement.

“I didn’t really have a choice when you gave them a key.” Yoongi retorts, pushing himself further into the cushions. He would have let them in anyway, given they are older and could honestly kick his ass if necessary. “They’re here to meet Namjoon.”

Seokjin hugs both girls in welcome, getting his cheeks pinched in their affectionate ways that he only tolerates from them (and Joonie), “Well he’s asleep so later alright?”

“You two did it last night.” Yong-Sun points out, hand reaching out to pull the collar of his shirt down to reveal the many bruises lining from his collarbone and up his neck, “Look at you!” She sing-songs, chuckling as she pokes his cheeks. He hates that she pointed it out, for the whole damn apartment building to hear. Yes, he had sex for the first time with Namjoon. He was very surprised, (and pleased,) that Namjoon still had energy for their own special workout. Though he did catch the younger flaking out on some of the machines.

“My little baby is all grown up.” Byul-Yi wipes a fake tear cascading down her cheek, chuckling at the glare she receives. “Now make us breakfast, we came over to discuss wedding things.” Of course, she would bust into his house for that.

Yoongi groans, “I’m going to barf.” He’s never been one to get all mushy about weddings. Hell, he doesn’t want one. It’s a known fact, and he’s going to sound like Namjoon for a damn minute, but everyone can shove it for a moment. Marriage is a social construction, making the young think that marriage is a must to be stable. By being near the one he loves is enough, he doesn’t need a piece of paper to make it official. He gets three glares and is ignored. “Well you can at least help with the music.” Yong-Sun murmurs, tossing him a giant binder that somehow fit in her little bag.

“Scrambled eggs it is.” Seokjin announces, shuffling his way into the kitchen. At least he remembered to put on a shirt and boxers before coming out, not like the girls would care. But Byul-Yi is right though, he’s been happier in the last few months than ever before. Chalk it up to a single person who is snoring away like a bear in hibernation in his bed.

The cutest bear that is. He smiles to himself, hands working on auto command as he finds the pan. Bringing out all the eggs he can find as any number of people could be in the apartment. Their place has become a sort of gathering point. He doesn’t mind a bit; Taehyung’s found the one for him, that Jungkook is something else. Yet he compliment’s Taehyung easily. Then Yoongi has yet to ask Jimin out, but slowly they are inching closer, soon he- along with the others- will step in to help. Hoseok acting as the mediator between the romance, a very much needed asset.

Then there is Namjoon, who he sees almost daily, even for but a few moments. It’s never a dull moment with their group of seven, plus a few more if anyone brings their own friends. It’s a wild house, but one he thoroughly enjoys. He hums as he cracks the eggs, vaguely listening to the conversation wafting in, so far with minimal arguments.

Hopefully it won’t get to the magnitude of the battle over what flowers-

Calloused hands slip around his waist, a cool bare chest pushed against his back, “I missed you.”  Nose tickling his neck, leaving simple kisses on the bruises from last night. “The bed felt too big.” Namjoon whines, tightening his grip around Seokjin’s waist as the elder cooks. This is perfectly fine; if the younger so deserves it, he can get egged as a punishment.

“You big baby, I’ve a household to cook for.” Seokjin stirs the eggs with one hand, the other tapping the arm wrapped around him.  Another whine, with a purr as Namjoon’s head moves forward to rest on Seokjin’s shoulder, watching him cook. “They can fend for themselves.”

Did Namjoon not see the extra guests? He is oblivious to his surroundings after awaken, he possibly walked in without seeing them to seek out Seokjin. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Seokjin doesn’t get to warn Namjoon before the she-devils attack.

“Oh, look at this babe,” Byul-Yi pops up around the corner, tugging Yong-Sun into the kitchen, “Namjoon’s come out to greet us.” She grins, both blocking the only exit as Namjoon’s face bursts into bright red, angling himself behind Seokjin to hide his bare chest from the girls. He made the mistake of only walking out in his deep purple boxers. “H-Hello, Jin’s told me about you two.” He bows as much as he can while using a still-cooking Seokjin to hide himself.

Honestly this is for Namjoon to work himself out of, Seokjin has no control over those two. “Good luck love.” He mumbles, pouring the eggs into the pan, it sizzles upon the first touch as the eggs begin to cook. With one quick movement, he moves himself to a position where Namjoon can’t hide, “They aren’t easy to handle.” Namjoon whining in response doesn’t help his resolve to stop his friends from their attack.

“I would hope he told you good things about us,” Byul-Yi draws closer, tossing her long hair over her shoulder, “He does nothing but gush over you.” She adds, winking at Seokjin who throws back a heated glare.

She reaches out to pinch his cheeks, eyes narrowing as she examines him up close. He is frozen solid. Standing there and taking it, because he admits- she could kick his ass and he doesn’t know what to do but cross his arms over his chest and hope for the best. Will they deem him worthy to be with Seokjin? The elder had said they were like sisters to him, so their opinion matters greatly.

“Jin he’s so adorable,” Yung-Sun gasps, now standing beside her girlfriend to look him over too. “like a little kitten-” They continue complimenting him, of course having him as red as a tomato. It only ends when Seokjin feels arms wrapping around his chest to stop the daunting mothers from feasting over fresh meat.

“Don’t run my boyfriend off please?” He asks, turning off the oven to let the eggs cool for a moment before separating them out. “I actually like this one.” Twisting around to lean against the counter with Namjoon basically tucked into his side, the poor puppy.

“Oh, right. Speaking of unworthy fools,” Yung-Sun frowns, crossing her arms as she leans against the door, “Since he is family, my mother won’t let me not invite him.” She says with disgust in her voice.

The atmosphere turns a bit sour, Namjoon being confused a bit but remains quiet. Seeing as this isn’t his fight to partake in. “It’s alright, I understand.” He does, none of them can help it that Hyosang is Yong-Sun’s cousin. “I saw him the other day actually.” He adds, not thinking it would cause an uproar.

However, when the girls scream, “ What! ” and Yoongi popping up to lean over the raised counter bar that allows for easy snooping from the living room. They still react like this despite that being over three years ago, what did he do to deserve them? “I ran into him while I was grocery shopping, I said hello-”

“You talked to him? Jin are you crazy?” Yoongi managed to crawl over the counter without breaking a single thing. For a person who hates to move, he can move quickly when he pleases. The girls look equally as pissed, the three making a semi-circle around him to question him further. “No, he didn’t do anything. He looked more terrified to see me- he kept looking over my shoulder to see if you were with me or not.” Seokjin directs at Yoongi, who almost looked pleased; he finds Namjoon’s hand and intertwines their fingers together, “I bet he was looking for any excuse for you to violate the restraining order.”

(“Restraining order?”

“Later Joonie.”)

“That fucker would.” Yoongi growls, nose crunching up in disgust. The girls relax a bit, only visibly as he knows they are still fuming with anger. “There is no reason to worry, I’ve got Namjoon to protect me.” He turns to see Namjoon smiling down at him, those glazed eyes are so in love that he can’t function properly.

Namjoon doesn’t have any competition, not now, not ever. He’s it for Seokjin.  

Somehow, he got the chance to write his own happy ending. It’s certainly not set in stone yet, but it’s well on its way.

He has the beginning of it chalked up to the small café with a stranger across the room dubbed Dimples.