Archive of Our Own ^beta

The first time Seokjin talked to Namjoon was in literature class when the younger was a junior and Seokjin still a sophmore. Barely a conversation but it was the first of many to come, as he would later come to know.

”excuse me,” hissed Seokjin, picking at a transfixed Namjoon’s bicep that was somewhat between tight and squishy. ”hey!”

“Hmm– What?” Namjoon finally answered, all knitted brows and jutted jaw, same expression he still gets when he’s forcibly broken out of his trance.

”uhm– you got an extra pen?“ Seokjin - awkward as always - had asked and even though he’s seen Namjoon around campus before, he didn’t pay enough attention to the way the guy had strong features — of which  were pointed at him now that he pulled his attention away from the lecture he seemed to enjoy. Tsk, nerd.

although Namjoon’s jaw had tightened scarily so, but as he whipped out an extra pen from his bad and gave it to Seokjin a polite smile was on his lips.

“Thanks, I owe you one.”  Maybe the wink was unnecessary but Namjoon - practically a stranger, then - had amusedly snickered at it, so naturally Seokjin had to put his name on his “classmates I don’t particularly hate” list. 

However, Seokjin never actually intended for them to become friends or anything seeing as they were obviously worlds apart — the guy dressed like an indie novel author, actually carried books in his bags and not just snacks, and worst of all, he had actually enjoyed studying - but circumstances in shape of a certain professor Jung brought them together to work on a course-end thesis to Namjoon’s horror and Seokjin’s internal snickers because at least he could secure an A with out of the nerd. 

But soon enough they’d learned that they had to meet each other halfway, Seokjin promising to show more care about the course and Namjoon to stop talking about things Seokjin is supposed to know but stubbornly doesn’t bother to learn in the early hour of 5 AM, waking Seokjin from comfortable slumber just to be the damn annoying nerd he was. (Still is, in fact, just not as annoying. His childhood friend, Yoongi, would disagree saying it’s the now senior who’s “just too whipped of a fucker.” to mind anymore. Yoongi also needs to mind his business, if you asked Seokjin.)

By the end of the semester they had managed to not only get an A on their thesis, but also develop a pleasant friendship. Turned out they got along way better than Seokjin had first thought. If he was being honest, he had thought they were too different at first. Coming from opposing worlds. And they did, but as time passed he found beauty in their differences. Namjoon was a great conversationalist, and Seokjin had always appreciated a good talk. 

They’d talked about everything. Themselves, their dreams, theories, stories, literature, music—Namjoon would just ramble on that one while Seokjin listened unbeknownst of the fond smile on his face—and Yoongi’s snickers at the background. They’d argue playfully, debating and pondering over the universe, and what it was made of. 

They were completely different, in their styles, the way they spoke, the words they used, music tastes. In their way of living. Clashing in countless ways, but never about their friendship. The boundaries; the limits of a close friendship that would look limitless to the naked eye. 

However, it’s the closest of friendships that are most delicate. Bridge that separates ‘friends’ from something more or less, shaky and fragile, and Seokjin had found himself stuck right in the middle.

Oh, Seokjin and Namjoon were also roommates.

Two semesters of constant complaining about their similarly dickheads of roommates later, they’d decided to give it a try. 

Differences becoming prominent more than ever. 

It had been a few weeks since they’d become roommates. A few weeks of learning all the things about your best friend that you couldn’t possibly know unless you’ve lived with them. 

How long they take to fall asleep—about fifteen minutes, ten if it’d been a long day. What they cuddle to sleep—a ryan plushie. How embarrassingly loud they laugh at their favorite Tv show (friends). How messy they leave the bathroom in the morning—very messy to Seokjin’s distaste. The song they unknowingly hum when they’re making food. Their studying habits—

“Joon,” no answer, “Namjoon,” incoherent mumbling, “Kim. Nam. JOON!” Said man let out a started scream, one that would normally make Seokjin laugh. If only he hadn’t been fruitlessly trying to catch a few leaping hours of rest, hoping to show up at his morning class with a brain at least half functional. The task proved to be difficult as he had been rather rudely disturbed by none other than yours truly. Who oddly had thought it was a good idea to start working on his calculus assignment that late at night. Differences.

“Wha- What’s up?!

“What’s u-“ the audacity, “I can’t sleep!”

“What’s wrong?” Confusion appeared on Namjoon’s face, making him look younger, “do you want me to cuddle you to sleep like last time?” And if it weren’t for his sincere tone, and kind intentions Seokjin would have screamed into his pillow. Seokjin wouldn’t admit it, but it’s also his forming flush that would make him push his face into just about any surface. 

Pushing memories of the other night back, when he had found trouble shutting his mind off until the younger silently slipped under the covers. It wasn’t the first time they’d been that physically approximate, but Seokjin couldn’t help but warm up by the invading scent of the other, and the gentle touches on his back. 

That is until Namjoon started snoring. 

Back to the matter at hand, 

“Namjoon.”

“Yes?” 

Breathe, Seokjin. “Dear.” You’re doing well, “there’s no need for you to- to cuddle me,” gulp down the crawling butterflies in your throat, “i just want you to turn the damn light off,” He caught Namjoon mouthing ‘oh’, and goddamn it why did the younger have to be so endearing.

“and stop mumbling mathematical nightmares so loud, for god’s sake!” He threw his body back at the bed, expecting to hear protests. Only they never came because Namjoon - unlike his previous roommate - is understanding. So respectful and thoughtful Seokjin feels self conscious about his own manners, wondering if his mom would be proud of what he’d become. Goddamn, Namjoon. 

“Thank you, Joonie.” Was whispered into the dark, “sweet dreams, Jin.” Was whispered back.

Other than their differing concepts of time, the two roommates would quite frequently come to clash over their definitions of a tidy room.

Seokjin was not a difficult person to live with, he was mindful, not so loud—only sometimes, but the younger was, too!—polite, can cook more than Ramen and everything that he’d like to think qualified him to make an excellent roommate. But even Seokjin as many others had a pet peeve. One that was embodied by the disarrayed clothes on the floor. And on bed. And on the desk. Basically everywhere they shouldn’t be.                      

“Joonie, come here for a sec!” The younger was in the bathroom, fixing his hair for their group hangout. Seokjin had finished getting ready, not leaving any trace behind so Namjoon had no excuse, right?

“‘Sup?” A Head poked out, “Joon, please for the sake of the first man who built a closet, PLEASE tidy your shit up!”

“That’s what you called me like that for?” A snort, “dude, don’t worry ‘bout it.” Only he did, because a year and a half of close friendship with the younger, four months of which spent being roommates, Seokjin had put together what he’d like to call a ‘thesaurus: a Namjoon special edition.' So, yeah, he had every reason to. 

“You’re gonna ignore me, aren’t you?” He had asked rhetorically, defeated by Namjoon’s stubborn habits.

“Yep!” 

“Asshole.”

“Heard that!”

“I said, ASSHOLE!”

Besides trivial details, the pair were doing well. They didn’t fight too much, not as much as Seokjin had fought with his previous roommate. Plus, Namjoon wasn’t that bad to live with. He’s caring; for example, he’d nurtured Seokjin back to health when he got sick. No one had ever done that for him, other than his mother. His asshole of an ex definitely hadn’t, Namjoon hated that guy’s guts. Anyways, he’d let Seokjin use him for practice. Acting out scenes, while the other would monotonously read the script which would always end up in playful banter over how horrible the younger’s acting was.

Namjoon was also pleasant. Seokjin would often tease him, but he’d always enjoyed the random insights the younger would suddenly voice. Leading to late night conversations, warmed by hot coffee and beating hearts. 

Besides, Namjoon had respected his privacy. Aside from that time where he  “borrowed” headphones and lost it, he never intruded. He didn’t sexile Seokjin, either. Well, there was this one time, but it was long ago. They’d both drawn lines of what to do in those cases. However—                  

“Joonie, I’m home!” It’d been an exhausting day filled with classes and exam preparations, “and i brought pizza!” He’d been starving, so he’d indulged himself, “only for me, of course!” 

Seokjin had thought it was weird how there wasn’t any answer; he’d known the younger’s schedule. Memorized it to remind him, technically. maybe he’s in the bathroom. 

He took off his shoes by the door, and took small steps into their narrow dorm kitchen to place the pizza there. Opposing it was the bathroom, and the lights had been off. In fact, he’d belatedly realized that the whole room that was attached to their small corridor was dimmed. Nothing but flickering reflections could be seen, room quiet but for—

“Joon?” 

Seokjin had frozen in place, ears detecting pants and huffs that he could recognize anywhere. First familiarized with them during that one time in their two years of friendship where Namjoon and Seokjin thought it would be a good idea to start exercising till they were out of breath—which didn’t take much, by the way. Of course, that didn’t last long, but Seokjin thought they at least deserved a star for trying. 

This time, though. They’d sounded different to his ears. Tinted with something that was beyond the limits of a seemingly limitless friendship. Want. Desire. Lust. Everything you wouldn’t hear from your best friend unless...

His eyes had finally caught up with the scene before him which had the younger on his bed under the covers, face lit up by his phone. Sweat and a frown on his forehead; swollen bottom lip has been bitten. His ears isolated by headphones. 

And repetitive movement under the cover easily visible. 

Seokjin took a silencing gulp. His whole body had been rooted a few steps in, and too many steps away. His heart had quickened its beat, pumping hot blood into every part of his body. Specifically one part. 

As dragging moments had been passing, the younger was starting to sound closer to the edge, “ah-“ voice getting higher—needier, and his chest was heaving with short breaths. Seokjin had wanted to move before it’s too much, to walk away discreetly to avoid making deals more awkward, but apparently his stiff body had had other plans. Ones that had included him tripping by his own shoes causing a loud thump sound from the impact of him against the door.

“What the fu-“ oh shit, “Seokjin?!” Namjoon had managed to strain. 

“Uh,” graceful as ever, “I’m ho-home?” Curse his awkwardness. 

Namjoon had fretted. Moving to change position on the bed, but it had only proved to be a very bad idea. Analytically, when you’v been hard and edged for some time,  unintentionally rubbing your dick against a surface WILL result in the following;

Seokjin swears the moan he had heard followed by whiny huffed curses had NOT made him twitch in his pants. Don’t take his word for it, though.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-“ the younger’s expression morphed into one of suppressed pleasured. Eyes shut tightly, lips bitten to hold back moans and his hand had instinctually grabbed onto the bedsheets, the other swiftly covering his face in embarrassment. The image pushed Seokjin to downright malfunction.

“Did you just-“

“Get out!”

So, yeah. They’d also differed on the appropriate timings when it comes to jerking off. The following days had been understandably awkward, they’d stumbled around each other carefully. Seokjin would make sure to knock before he came in. Namjoon would try to act like it never happened, spending longer time in showers. Eventually, they’d both compromised to at least inform the other that they’d need “alone time” prior. 

However, Seokjin couldn’t shake it off. Noises seeping into his mind at the most inappropriate times. Namjoon’s orgasm haunting him in his dreams.

“The fuck you look like a red m&m for?” He did not like the smirk on Jungkook’s face at all.

“None of your fucking  business!”                            

So, it’s been established that the two best friends turned roommates aren’t exactly two sides of the same coin, to put it into words. 

However, that doesn’t mean they didn’t agree on some things. For example, they had both agreed that it was time for Yoongi and Jimin to stop being oblivious, and confess already.

“No way.”

“Fool, you’ll never know unless you try!” They were out for a brunch in between classes, the youngest all frowns and curt words until they’d asked him what had been wrong. Yoongi. 

“I agree with Jin,” a hand had instinctively creeped onto Seokjin’s thigh under the table, “if you don’t make a move, you’ll just find yourself stuck in a loop of what ifs.” Namjoon continued very seriously, fingers touching his bare skin through his ripped jeans, driving Seokjin’s thoughts up to a wall. “it’s relentless, Jimin.” His grip had subtly tightened at the last sentence, causing Seokjin to almost choke on his water, questioning if it had been entirely innocent.

“You okay?” Worried eyes. He cleared his throat and proceeded, “ye-yeah.” Sip.  “I know Yoongi, Jimin” he assured, “and I know he’s interested in you.” Yoongi wouldn’t say it out loud but Seokjin knew his friend enough to know what his gazes, sneaky touches and studied words had meant. 

“Fine,” Jimin gave up, he took a sip from his glass, “can we stop talking about it now?” He demanded defensively. Their friend never liked to be too hung on matters.

So Seokjin and Namjoon also agreed that they might be a little too invested in their friends’ love lives, would never admit that it’s to distract them from their own, though.

“Alright.” Ever so respectful, “how’s dancing practice been going?”

“Good! There’s a new choreography we have to learn, but I like the challenge.” Jimin had always been like that, so headstrong and determined. 

More similar to Yoongi than they both had believed. Seokjin had glanced at Namjoon’s hand on his thigh and started to ponder if they, too, were like that. Apparently different, but not as much on the inside. Maybe they were, at first. Maybe, with the passing days they’ve somehow filled the missing pieces in each other. Pieces that were molded to fit one another, Namjoon and Seokjin. Seokjin and Namjoon, and no one else. 

 ❆

Seokjin had a best friend; Seokjin’s best friend was also his roommate. 

One that would wake him up early in the morning because the sunrise was too beautiful to miss, 

“this is my favorite view in the universe” spoken serenely at 4 AMs.

one that would send him pictures, songs and lyrics that would remind his best friend turned roommate of him, “thought you’d like this <3”. 

One that would abruptly slap any surface near him in excitement, and Seokjin would learn later on that it’s because he’d finally caught the missing word or beat to his new song.

One that would leave him on the beach during the drowsy days of summer in search of little crabs. “Aren’t they so adorable!” He’d say, “yeah, Joonie.” in the softest voice ”Very adorable”, only Namjoon wouldn’t know Seokjin hadn’t been talking about just the crabs. 

One that can be clumsy enough to break his favorite mug, holding the salvaged pieces in his hands with a look of guilt on his face, lips pouty “I’m really sorry...” and Seokjin couldn’t find himself angry not when the younger had come home one day carrying a bag in his hand containing an identical one. He didn’t tell him that the reason why that mug was his favorite is because it’s the same one his mother had gifted him from Germany before sending him off to college. Into adulthood. 

Seokjin had a best friend, and a roommate. Seokjin had Namjoon. And Seokjin was very much cathartically, deeply, and crazily in love with him. 

The first time he’d realized, It wasn’t an “oh, fuck!” Moment. Falling in love with his best friend was gradual, steady and inevitable. It was like the feeling you get when you wake up comfortable in your bed realizing it’s your day off, the one you get when the protagonist of your favorite show gets a happy ending after struggling for so long. The same one you get when it’s winter holidays and you’re sat in front of the window warmed up by a cup of hot chocolate in your hands and good company, waiting to witness the first snowfall. 

Being in love with Namjoon is homey, and comfortable and warm. 

However, taking the first step on that shaky bridge was what scared Seokjin to say the least. 

There had been so many times where Seokjin’s tongue couldn’t bear holding the words anymore. The admission. Muscles contracting only for the energy to shift. With each passing day, he’d find it more and more challenging to stay passive. His own body betraying him; eyes lingering a beat too long, hands reaching out to feel, tone getting uncharacteristically shy.

Accumulating to a lazy night where they had agreed on spending their day off watching ‘friends’ reruns and eating sweet snacks they’d grown too old for. 

They were laying comfortably on Namjoon’s bed with the laptop balanced in between. They’d already been on the second season when Seokjin’s attention naturally gravitated from the tv towards the man beside him. His best friend and roommate, coincidentally the man he’d been in love with. It had felt a little weird at first, viewing everything he’d known about his best friend through different lenses. Paying attention to all the details he hadn’t minded at first. His dimples, his slightly uneven jaw, the mole on one of his cheeks. The one under his bottom lip. Finding himself fixated by everything that made Namjoon, him.

The younger was mumbling lines he must have memorized from when he was a teenager hungry for knowledge.

An image of the younger with pimples, poorly cut bangs and big framed glasses on his face speaking broken English had made Seokjin chuckle out of endearment, “oh, sorry.” Namjoon had apologized, “was i mumbling loudly?” 

The embarrassed look that had been on the younger’s face drove him to chuckle even more, “you’re good,” Namjoon frowned, “then do I have something on my face?” He hastily brushed his tempting lips with his long fingers, and Seokjin had to physically stop himself from doing something reckless.

Something along the lines of breaking the bridge into pieces.

“No, Uhm,” shyness had suddenly overwhelmed him , “i was just thinking about 15 year old you learning English from watching friends,” he snorted, “nerd.” Embarrassment flickered through Namjoon’s face once again, “Shut up!” He’d yelled, “pimples covering your face, hair a fuckin’ mess” Seokjin teased. 

“Don’t act like you’ve never looked ugly!” The younger had very childishly retorted. 

“Ugly? Me?” He’d provokingly asked, “unheard of.” 

“You think too highly of yourself!” The younger retorted.

“Am I not the most beautiful in the room right now?”

“Debatable.”

“Facts.” He’d corrected.

“Mhm, subjective.” God, he was awful.

“Nope!” He said stubbornly, “I’d twitter poll this, but i don’t wanna hurt your feelings.” 

“You’ll only get your ass hurt!” He scoffed, “besides, only your mom and a few cousins follow you, loser.”

“Not a chance!” Listen, he might be a 25 year old guy but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t throw silly tantrums, “You see this? This sculpture?” He gestured at his face, “this is a money maker right here.”

“God,” Namjoon said exasperatedly, “fuckin’ theatre majors, and their big ass egos.”

Seokjin scoffed, “oh, I’m sorry we got all the confidence you lameasses lack!” 

“See, that was low.” He held his hand on his chest in fake hurt, “you also got questionable morals.”

“Shut up,” the sounds coming from the laptop filling the background, the air shifting to something a little more serious, “that’s the only way we could make it through in the business, you know?” The way where you’re careful not to show your weaknesses alas the world would feed on them, “fake it till you make it kinda thing, yeah?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” its always at those moments that he’d feel the oldest. That he remembers that he’s got almost two years worth of getting back up after a nasty fall out. 

“and,” shy, “you don’t have to fake it.” Seokjin had felt the admission pull at his tongue, “you’ve always been.. beautiful.” Out of instinct he turned to face the younger to check if he was being teased, but the bashful look on Namjoon’s face was saying that he was not; he was not being teased. 

Was he actually being... flirted with?

See, Seokjin was aware of the younger’s abilities to use his words and body language to draw someone in. He’d witnessed it one too many times when they’d broken their routine by going out somewhere louder and far less innocent. Genuinely spoken words murmured, flattering eyes roaming, daring hands moving.

Only it wasn’t like that. Namjoon had stared into his eyes, his own roaming the younger’s illuminated face, nervousness evident. Bottom lips unconsciously licked, hands battling urges, but the older had found himself being gravitated, anyways. 

Now, Seokjin had always made himself known for being a shameless person everywhere he went. Causing no one to suspect that he did have his own insecurities, his own doubts and self-perceived flaws. Never guessing that the man whose laughs would echo behind and cocky attitude that would dominate the room, can sometimes be unsure as well. 

Not the younger, however, because Namjoon is insightful.  He is careful. 

“Thank you, Joonie.” Everything felt like it was moving slowly, time freezing to accommodate Seokjin’s trance.

“You’re welcome, Jinnie.”

“So are you,” he complimented back, “you’ve grown into a fine man yourself.” He sounded like his mother to his ears, but he’d meant it. He feared letting his tongue go and be reckless.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll have you know, my mom would definitely vote for you.”

The younger giggled, “So i stand correct, your feelings would get hurt.”

“You’re an ass,” Seokjin laughed along, basking in how nice hanging out with his best friend had felt like, “they really do like you a lot, though.”

“I like them too,” Namjoon fiddled with his sweater contemplatively, “I’m glad you have them in your life.”

“Me too,” the older smiled, “I’m glad i have you, too.”

“So am i.” They hadn’t noticed when their pitches became lower; secretive. As if this little moment was only theirs to see and feel.

Like a force of magnet they found themselves unable to look away from each other. Eyes unblinking, lips twitching. Throats silently moving. The movement of the laptop’s screen reflected on the younger’s face and Seokjin could see the shadows of his dimple that was painting his face. He wanted to kiss it.

They’d gazed into each other’s eyes, looks piercing. Dragging. Pulling them into one another’s orbs, ever so slowly. So gradually. Just like how falling in love with his best friend had felt like. 

Their faces were leaned in close, foreheads were a whisper away from each other, yearning to touch. Seokjin‘s lips started to move, “Namjoon...” it was barely above a whisper, “Joonie-....I”

“You what?” Stuttered breaths smelling of sugar, “tell me, Jinnie.” 

Lips close, tingling to confine and be confined. All it would’ve taken was simple words. 

I’m in love you.

but, “‘m going to bed.” And it had hurt them both. 

To seokjin, that had been another battle that he’d lost. His heart against his thought-induced fears. 

He’d always been sensitive, too caring of the people he’d loved. Worrying about them came as a package, and Seokjin cared too much about the younger. About their friendship. 

Too scared of the hallow space beneath the fragile bridge.

To Namjoon, Seokjin would later learn, it had been the first rejection.

❆ 

The days following that night were heavy on him. Cracks of the bridge echoing in Seokjin’s head. They’d almost kissed. he’d almost confessed, and the thought had horrified him. 

What if he’d let Namjoon kiss him? What then? Seokjin is a lot of things, but he wasn’t naive. Some would say he was a little pessimist, but he was only being realistic. Namjoon was not only his best friend, but also his roommate. Anything to fuck that up, Seokjin wouldn’t have been able to live through it. 

The younger - to Seokjin’s surprise - didn’t seem as affected as he was which only confirmed his fears. That he’d just deluded himself into thinking there was a possibility there. 

“What?” He had gone out with Yoongi at a local cafe, the clock read 1:43 Am and Seokjin had always felt the tamest late at night. The cafe was warmly lit, and the brown and yellow monochrome decoration was neatly simple yet comfortable to creat a cozy environment, one that could fosters late night confessions. Maybe he could bring his roommate here, one day, he’d considered. 

“I’m-“ He’d ducked closer to Yoongi as to whisper, bubble tea in his hands, “I’m in love with him.”

He needed to hear himself saying it, had to find some outlet. And who was better than his childhood friend?

“I mean,” the younger trailed, “I’m not surprised. Heck– i called it, even,” oh there he goes, “but Seokjin, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you admit it before?” He finished with a bewildered laugh. Seokjin knew it wasn’t mocking or patronizing because it was true. He’d always been private about his feelings, holding them inside his chest only for him to know. For people to inquire.

“Well,” embarrassment made him cower, “i just–“ maybe he didn’t have to hold them back, “I’ve never been this frustrated.”

Yoongi’s straight expression had unsettled him, but he knew there was a process behind it. Probably a full twenty paged analysis of the situation. He took a sip from his coffee and, “Why’s that?” so it begins. “It’s Namjoon, for christ’s sake.”

“Yes, it fucking is!” It’s his best friend; his roommate. “I don’t want to fuck up what we have...” Yoongi grimaces sympathetically, “i just– I don’t think I can keep it up, anymore.”

“Jinnie, look at me,” his friend had called him softly making him look up, “you don’t have to fuck it up,” hearing that had made Seokjin weaker, somehow, “what are you so scared of?” 

It was sitting on his tongue, that word. That harsh thing people would call rejection. “What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” 

He hadn’t been expecting the other to snort at him, “oh god, you two are a fucking wonder.”

“Fuck you–“

“Dude! He’s so into you,” okay, the younger’s laugher was starting to really bug him, “god really created dumb and dumber, and made them fall in love!” He continued to laugh, Seokjin failing to find the humor.

“Asshole!”

“I mean it.” He proceeded seriously, “I know for a fact ‘dumb dumb’ feels very strongly about you.”

A part of Seokjin wanted to argue back but then again, Namjoon had treated him specially. See he wasn’t a pessimist. He’d noticed the difference in Namjoon’s words, gestures and body language when he was with him. 

The voices inside his head would supply that it’s only because he’s the closest one to him, the most familiar. Domestic. Fairly realistic.

Besides, would he have acted like nothing had happened? Like they almost didn’t kiss, if he had returned his feelings? Yoongi didn’t know that.

He took a cold sip from his bubble tea and ruffled his long bangs, stalling. 

“We almost kissed,”

“What?! And he was the theatre major?

“It was a couple of nights ago,” five to be exact, “I don’t really remember what had led to that,” that had been a lie, he knew. He knew his own feelings had momentarily blinded him that night by all the details that made Namjoon, the man he was in love with.

“And?” His childhood friend had asked engagingly.

“And nothing.” Shame settled in his stomach, “i pulled away.”

He was preparing for all the remarks, but not for a concluding “huh.” huh? “That explains why he has been grumpy.” 

“What are you talking about? He seemed fine.”

“I mean, he wouldn’t show it to you. But whatever happened that night had hurt him, too.”

He left Yoongi that night with jumbled thoughts and a little seam of hope.

❆

Seokjin was walking home from his last 6 PM class of the day when he got a call, feet dragging and mind running. 

“Hey,” he hadn’t really seen much of the younger lately, both of their schedules clashing. He knew he must have been at the studio, though. Stressing over his pending project, probably.

“Yo,” voice as gravely as always, “jinnie, how are you?”

“Well,” He’d breathed, “I’m going back to the dorm after two hours of drama class.” The professor had instructed them to pick an emotion, and act it out using their own made-up scenarios. He’d picked fear, acting out a scene that is not so made up. “I’m exhausted. You?”

“Me, too.” Static filled the air for moments, “I’ve been having some trouble with this one song.”

“Yeah?”

“Doesn’t sound quite right, you know?” Maybe he didn’t exactly know, but Seokjin was pretty familiar with the “almosts”. Almost enough. Almost good. Almost ideal. 

“I know,” He’d arrived to the dorms building, opting for the stairs so he could keep his phone call with Namjoon, their shared room was on the third floor. “And i also know that you’ll eventually get it.” He did, “just don’t get too immersed on what’s missing, yeah?”

“Okay.” He’d known the younger would anyways, because that’s how he was. Mind always working to find the answers to all the questions he’d have, and he’d have plenty. “Why do you sound so breathy?”

“Oh? Uhm,” he had two options; either confess he’d ran up three floors of stairs because he was whipped, or “I’m jerking off, now. Bye.” 

“What the-“

Curse his awkwardness. 

❆

click. 

It was a Friday night, the start of the weekend meaning it’s their regular night in. Their designated night for watching silly american chick flicks while stuffing themselves with everything unhealthy, ending it with fading laughter and droopy eyes. 

It had been a couple of weeks since that Friday night, they’d been busy the following weeks of it which is why spending this one together was important for the younger, apparently. Seokjin had wanted to confess that it might have been his fault why they hadn’t been spending as much time together.

He was in their small kitchen waiting for the noodles to cook, cutting vegetables. He’d suddenly felt strong arms wrap around his torso pulling him back to something stiff. 

“Hi!”

“MOTHERFUCK–“

The younger had the audacity to laugh, asshole.

“Didn’t you hear me coming in?!”

“Well, yeah!” He hadn’t been expecting him to cozy up, his leaping heart sure hadn’t either. 

“So? were you expecting someone else?” 

He had been, actually. “I could’ve cut my fingers, you ass!”

“God, stop being dramatic.”

“I’m a the–“

“A theatre major, i KNOW,” He took a small slice of tomato, stuffing it in his mouth all the while holding Seokjin. “Whatchu cooking?” His breath hit the back of Seokjin’s neck, waking the goosebumps up.

“Ramen. A chef’s special!” He’d proceeded cutting the tomatoes, distracting himself from the loud beats of his heart, and flush of his cheeks. The younger had good grip on him, rendering him compliant, securing his place by laying his chin on the older’s shoulder. He’d enjoyed the sensation of being so close, but of course he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

“Why so much, though?” 

“Ah, i-” he was about to tell him why, but was soon stopped by the knife going the wrong way causing his pointer finger that was holding the tomato to be cut, blood came out instantly. He hissed. “Fuck!”

“Lemme see,” Namjoon turned him around by the waist trapping him between the island and himself, and took his finger into his hand to examine it. 

Seokjin’s eyes involuntarily started taking him in. He was wearing an outfit with matching prints on the 3/4 sleeved top and bottom that reached inches under his knees, and it was big on his frame, leaving him looking smaller than he really is. Softer, and more youthful. The dark navy color of it mixing well with the tan of his skin and the brown of his moles. The shine of his hair, the pink tint of his lips. Seokjin could go on, but—

“Joon-“ while he was busy admiring the younger, Namjoon had taken his finger and put it in his mouth in swift moves. Eyes closed, and lips sucking the flowing blood. He started at Seokjin’s exclamation, removing his lips just as swift.

“Fuck- i’m sorry-“ his face mirrored the older’s blush from behind his hand, “I don’t know why i did that,” he couldn’t look him in the eye, “force of habit, i guess?” His hand instinctively moved from his face to rub his sweaty glimmering neck nervously. Pulling Seokjin’s attention towards it.

“It’s fine–“ gulp. /fuck, he couldn’t gulp down his feelings, “kinda felt good,” jesus. That was not what he was supposed to say. “I mean,”

But it amused the younger nonetheless, “yeah?” Sudden spur of shamelessness coming over him, “getting your blood sucked, or my lips did?” 

Oh my god. Seokjin felt like he could explode from the embarrassment, but he refused to show the younger just how much he got his strings pulled. “Kim Namjoon!” 

“Yes, baby?” 

“Oh my god, you’re absolutely disgusting.” 

“You love me, anyway.” This was not how he’d expect it to come down to, “and my lips.” Namjoon finishes with puckered lips, and a smug look. The space between them close to nonexistent.

“Oh, shut up!” He scoffed, hoping it’d sound convincing, “i–“

They both heard the sound of the door clicking followed by the noise of their group of friends.

“Oi, we’re here!” God, they were a loud bunch, “and we got the shit you asked for!”

“You... invited them to our night?” 

He didn’t have time to properly answer his roommate’s question before their friends flooded the small kitchen. Seokjin’s instantly body distancing itself from Namjoon’s. 

Voices drowning his own. 

“Yo, Jin, you overcooked the noodles!” It was Jungkook’s.

“Great. I like ‘em soggy!” Taehyung had replied.

“Awful! just like your taste in men.” The youngest retorted.

“Right.” Taehyung teased, “you really are awful.” Jungkook’s expression became sour. These two always had confused him. 

“Tsss, burn!” It was Hoseok’s voice this time. 

“Oh, shut up. That includes you, too!” 

Yoongi and Jimin walked in right then, trailing closely behind each other. They had grocery bags in their hands, making Seokjin wonder why they’d been late if they all rode together like always. They’d actually looked unusually disheveled.

“I’m hungry!” Jimin whined. Yoongi silently walking behind. He’d need to ask him about it later.

Seokjin had still been shaken by what had just happened with Namjoon, his finger tingling with pain and the lingering feeling of warm plush lips engulfing it. He glanced at his best friend noticing him being oddly quiet. Anxiety started filling his stomach.!

“Everyone,” he called loudly, “you got two fucking minutes to get  your hungry asses out!”

They all quickly scrambled out to the room, taking comfort on the floor, bed and desk chair. Only he and Namjoon stayed behind. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you invited them?” He didn’t sound angry, but hurt?

“I didn’t think you’d mind?” And he really didn’t, they were his friends as much as Seokjin was. Why would he?

“Seokjin, I–“ he took a step back, “forget it, and put a bandaid on your finger.” And with that he followed the others. Seokjin was confused, and distraught. He couldn’t understand the younger’s reaction, after all he’d never minded the presence of their friends. 

His guts were telling him that there was something more to it, something he wasn’t seeing, but he was never the most trustful of it.

❆

“Hey!” Jungkook greeted him, falling in steps with Seokjin on his way to the nearest grocery.

“‘Sup, dipshit.”

“Thought i’d accompany your old wrinkly ass,” the brat had teased, “alas your legs would give up on you.” 

“Oh, what a good citizen we have here!” He slapped the younger’s arm.

“I try,” the younger crinkled his nose, “where we going?”

“Well, I was going to get some groceries.” He emphasized on “i”.

“Neat.” He continued, “could need some, myself.” 

Oh, he knew what this would end up like: an overbearing grocery bill. 

“I’m not paying for you, you stingy brat!” 

“God, old men are bitter these days.”

“The audacity of you.” He squinted his eyes in question, “what are you doing here, anyway?” It’s unlike the other to not be with Taehyung in his free time.

“Just missed my old man, geez.”

“Alright, i missed you, too,” they had that kind of relationship, him and Jungkook. Playful, but nonetheless deep. “But what’s been going on with you?” He threw the underlying question what’s up with you and Taehyung? For the younger to catch.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook looked down shrugging, “it’s been weird.”

“Weird? How?”

“Just– frustrating, i guess.” Oh, did he know all about that.

“Yeah?” He pressed.

“One second he’s ALL over me,” the younger snapped, “then another he’d be so... distant.”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“You think that highly of me?”

They rounded the corner, and entered the local supermarket near their university.

“touche.” They were walking through the aisles,

“Plus, he and Hoseok...” Jungkook huffed, rather aggressively grabbing some spicy ramen cups.

“Dude, Hoseok fucks around with everyone a little.” Their friend had been flirty by nature, all big smiles and teasing touches. All harmless.

“Even you?” He knew Jungkook had been seeking reassurance, that nothing serious going on between Taehyung and Hoseok.

“I-“ they’d been close– met through Namjoon early on, but Hoseok never really came on to him like that. In fact, he’d always been cautious? 

“guess not, he wouldn’t do that to Joon.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means everyone knows not to touch,” he emphasized with hand gestures, “and by everyone i mean classmates, too.”

“That’s ridiculous!” He turned to the next aisle, hoping to avoid being caught blushing and stammering. 

“Makes perfect sense to me,” the brat followed, “i see why they would think that.”

“Now, what’s that supposed to mean?!” He grabbed a box of Namjoon’s favorite cereal and put it into the basket.

“I’m not naive, Seokjin, i see how you guys look at each other.”

He paused to study the other, processing the words. He was about to respond but– ring

“Hello?”

“Hey! Where are you?” Namjoon’s voice said through speakers, “came home, and didn’t find you there.” He whined.

“The supermarket nearby,” be noticed Jungkook tuning in, ear pressed against Seokjin’s, phone in between. He slapped his nosy friend off, mouthing curses. “Want me to get you something?”

“That one chocolate cer-“

“Already got it, anything else?”

“Nope,” sounding spoilt, “just come back before i fall asleep.”

When he ended the phone call, Jungkook had been staring at him with a smug smile on his face. insufferable.

“What?!”

“You two are practically married.” He teased.

“Why you little-“

“Whipped!” The fucker had ran away before Seokjin could catch him, but not before throwing his damn noodles in the basket.                            

❆

“Jin!” The sound of the door had startled him, “I’m hungry.” The younger trudged in, “tired,” And grumbled while flinging his things onto his bed, including himself. “And I’m broke,” He finished, whines muffled by the comforter. 

It was a Tuesday, and Namjoon had a full schedule on that day. 

“Just say it.” Maybe they could be okay, after all. “Say, Kim Seokjin, my bestest friend in the world,” his tone was teasing, “the most handsome man in the UNIVERSE,” Namjoon had turned to peek at him, anticipating, “the love of my life,” so he wanted to hear it, sue him, “please feed me.”

The younger stayed silent for a few moments, racking his brain for some backhanded insult, probably. He kept quiet, just staring at Seokjin quizzically. The younger’s stare was slowly making him nervous, so he opted for avoiding it.

“Fine, I’ll feed you.” whipped, He’d gotten off his bed and walked to their kitchen, “I’ll just heat you some leftovers, though, so I don’t wanna hear none of it!”

“Thank you!” He heard the other yell behind.

He started taking out the pizza and Chinese leftovers from the day before when he, Namjoon and Hoseok had ordered take out. 

“I must be a godsent angel, i swear.” He said to himself.

“I agree.” He hadn’t known his roommate was behind him, out of his clothes and into pjs. He looked cozy. Domestic.

“‘Course you do, I’m keeping you fed.”

“Mom probably prayed you into my life.”

“Mhm. Wise woman,” she was, and very nice too. Namjoon takes after her a lot, “how is she?”

“She’s good.” He leaned on the brown counter, waiting for his food to be ready. “She’s got backpains, though, Doctor told her she must rest.”

“Hope your dad is taking care of her.”

“Bet he’s driving her insane.” He snorted, “he can be pretty overboard.” He’d met them a few times, just like Namjoon had met his own parents. They’d be great friends, Seokjin pondered. Just like them.

They stayed silent for a while, Seokjin discreetly observing the younger. 

“You miss them, huh?”

“So much.” He’d sounded so small, and painfully young. As if he was a little boy abandoned for adulthood to claw on. 

“Me, too.” Seokjin cleared his throat, “i miss mine, too.” He raised his hand and laid it on Namjoon’s shoulder in comfort. “You’ll see them soon, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he laid his own hand atop of the older’s, “till then, guess you’re gonna have to feed me.”

“Fuck off,” he laughed, “but for world peace, i might.”

“Not because you’re worried about my health?” He asked in fake hurt.

“Not a bit,” mirth reflected in both of their eyes, “I’m more worried about not settling this building on fire.”

“That was unnecessary!”

“Remember when-“

“Shut up!”

“Then say, thank you, Seokjin!” He handed the younger his warm plate, pushing him out to their shared room. 

Seokjin sat on his bed, while the other was sat on the floor eating. He’d started talking about his day, how his classes went. Who he met, what gossip he’d picked up. The other listening engagingly all the while eating.

He finished his food and went to wash his dirty plate in the kitchen, I trained him well. When he was done, Namjoon laid back on his own bed, sighing in contentment.

“I’m glad we’re roommates, ever told you that?” What had caught him off guard wasn’t the statement, but the eyes. The smile. The fondness in them both.

“No, but i know.” keep the facade, “I’m irreplaceable.”

His pretense cockiness had made Namjoon chuckle, deep laughter coming from his chest. But there was something else there, too.

“So, What’s up?” 

“Mhm?”

“Why’d you go all mushy on me all of the sudden?”

“I don’t know,” He’d sounded troubled, “‘just been thinking about stuff.”

The whispers inside Seokjin’s head all stopped to listen, “yeah? Like what?”

“The universe,” he’d turned around to face the ceiling, “life,” and with a long sigh, “what everything meant to me,” he continued shruggingly, “this senseless dream.” 

“Namjoon, what-“

“Seokjin,” He’d always liked how his name sounded from the younger, so full of innocence and youth. But at that moment, he’d sounded as old and weighed down as ever. He’d suddenly gotten up from his own bed moving to the older’s. Seokjin quickly making space for him. Namjoon took it up, and wrapped an arm around the older’s torso. “Comm’ere” he exhausted, Seokjin noticed the plea in his voice and complied ignoring the rising beat of his heart. The warmth radiating off his skin. 

He wiggled his body to fit into Namjoon’s embrace, causing their bodies to be pressed against each other. The younger on his side, while the older halfway turned. Faces inches away, and Seokjin found his thoughts trailing to that night again.

“I had a rough day,” was croaked after some quiet, “my music production professor was relentless,” how dare he, “said i might not have what it takes,” that asshole, “worst thing is that I’m starting to believe he was right.” Seokjin didn’t like the sound of that at all, but he let the younger continue. It’s something they’d established early on, the first times each of them broke their walls. Talk when it’s wanted, listen when it’s needed. 

So he listened to the younger, fingers habitually moving to brush the brown locks of the other. “It’s like i can never get something right lately ,” he had his eyes closed, “i just.. worry sometimes,” Seokjin traced his eyes on the other’s face. Falling in love with every details that was solely Namjoon’s. “What if I’m not cut out for this? What if... I disappoint?” Seokjin’s chest ached from the insecurity of the other. 

“Namjoon,” he couldn’t not speak, “Joon, Joonie” his fingers had moved to caress said man’s face, causing him to flutter his slightly bloodshot eyes open. 

“You are.” He’d assured, “you are the most person cut out for this that i know.” His own voice sounded pleading, “You have something great to offer, i could tell from the moment i met you.” and it’s true, Namjoon had looked like he’d held the lights in his heart, all he needed was a mirror. “But honey, you have to believe in it.” He sensed the younger gulp, eyebrows slightly arched into a frown, “you gotta stop feeling like you’re putting your life on the line here, failing once, twice—heck, as much as you can count, doesn’t take anything away from your talent.” 

Namjoon would always wonder how Seokjin doesn’t worry too much, doesn’t get hung up. He hadn’t always been like that, it took effort. Still does, but he figured that the universe was made of possibilities. Starting from the big bang, to where they are now. Seokjin and Namjoon the strangers; the friends; the roommates, and no one else. 

“I believe in you, Joonie.” Namjoon had listened to the comforting words silently, but the older knew they were heard and appreciated. 

“Thank you.”

They’d laid on the bed for a while, the younger’s face buried into Seokjin’s shoulder. Legs tangled, and arms embracive. Steady breaths rhyming with the strokes of the older - now on his side - fingers brushing. Windows ticking with the fall’s wind; the lights had been dimmed which allowed the lamppost’s lights to seep into the bedroom, igniting their faces. 

The noises of the busy city acting like white noise, inciting Seokjin’s mind to think of the possibilities. Namjoon; the well known music producer. Seokjin; the famous actor. 

Seokjin and Namjoon; the lovers.

Serenity filled the air. They’d been quiet for some time, chests rising and deflating, synchronized. At least fifteen minutes must had passed before a determined breath was taken, proceeded by intentional moves. Ones that that touched Seokjin with purpose, fingers pushing his chin forward. Causing warmth to spread through Seokjin’s body once again, rendering him lightheaded. Eyes unable to focus on anything other than piercing orbs and slicked lips. He’d moved, too, fingers touching the hand on his chin. Prying it away, and kissing it lightly. It was a little calloused, and cold. He’d held it in his hand, fingers instantly interlocking.

The rattling noise of the shaky bridge of a limitless friendship was loud and alarming, he should have had silenced it but before he could stop himself he’d taken the big leap, crossing it with one risky step.

His body had gone and thrusted itself onto the younger, planting his lips on the other’s. Namjoon responding immediately.

His best friend’s lips had felt just like how he’d imagined them to feel; familiar only not in the literal sense, but in a sense where they’d felt right against his. Warm.

They’d kept kissing until time didn’t run anymore. Until space was something to be filled with their breathy pants, and curious noises. The Namjoon-shaped piece in his heart kept growing as their kiss deepened; long roots trapping it whole with it’s branches.

They were both breathing roughly, faces pushed together and lips moving against one another. Confining and being confined. Hands brushing and caressing. Namjoon on his back, and Seokjin halfway in between his legs. Their fingers - still interlocked - laid next fo their moving heads. 

Their bodies were fully flushed against each other, and their free hands were becoming more frantic by the second, urged by lust—love.

They were leaving prints all over each other; in their hair, on their backs, on their necks, thighs, bare expanse of skin of their lower stomachs. Fingers sneaking under shirts, then moving over jeans to press and feel–

“Joon-hnnn” He’d gasped. Pulling off only for the younger to pull him in again, and it felt temptingly sweeter than ever. As if to test his control, and he so wanted to give in. To indulge, but his mind was urging him to salvage the remaining parts of the bridge. 

 An invasive thought was what had brought him back to reality; Namjoon had been feeling vulnerable therefore his judgement couldn’t be right. He couldn’t take advantage of the situation like that, wouldn’t have lived peacefully with it. Whatever the younger thought he’d felt, must have been the result of an emotionally exhausting day. 

Confinement can be as dangerous as it’s safe. Find a home in someone’s chest and you might find yourself never wanting to leave, even if you had a mansion waiting for you outside. 

Namjoon deserved a mansion. 

“I can’t do this-“ this time he made sure to pull all the way off the bed, standing next to it with buckling knees. He pulled at his long black bangs to ground his mind in a way. 

Namjoon looked stunned, whiplashed from how fast things progressed only for it to shatter. Fluorescent lights shadowing the frown on his face, his chest panting just as Seokjin’s, and his swollen lips were glistening, “Seokjin?” His voice had sounded pained. 

“I– we can’t.” He’d wanted to say it, tell him that he’d been so afraid. Afraid of ruining everything they’ve worked hard to build the past two years; the friendship, the trust, the home they’ve made for each other. Namjoon was his best friend. Namjoon was his roommate, and he would never have forgiven himself if he fucked their dynamic up. But he couldn’t say all of that without outing himself, so he’d slipped his feet into the first shoes his eyes met, and grabbed a discarded shirt—Namjoon’s—off the floor and left. 

When he came back from his late night stroll the room had been dark, and the younger was nowhere to be found. 

From: Yoongi

12:45 AM

He’s with me

What happened?

To: Yoongi

2:10 AM

I think i broke the bridge

He deleted and typed;

To: Yoongi 

2:13 AM

I think i fucked up

After that night things between them started to drastically change. The limits of the seemingly limitless friendship thickening, showing. Tension overflowing. 

Namjoon had been upset. All frowns and jutted jaw, shoulders ever so stiff. Only Seokjin couldn’t figure out how to fix it. The younger was being so distant, so closed off. This wasn’t what he’d been used to. Lighthearted banter no more making their way into their conversations, room void of snickers and laughter. No more sneaky hands on his thighs or his waist. And what hurt the most, no more random late night discussion about what the universe was made of. 

Seokjin had been distraught by the toxic energy that filled the room. He’s tried to ignore it, acting like nothing had happened. That night where he recklessly rattled the bridge, almost breaking it all the way off before his fears stopped him. 

He attempted to move on from it, aching for a sense of normalcy. “Joonie, wanna hear some gossip?” Insecurities settled in his stomach, “it’s about some professor and a student.” The other remained unresponsive, “It’s real nasty.” He’d tried. 

“Sorry, Jin.” Tone firm, “Not really interested.” Seokjin swallowed down his feelings. His fears.

“Okay,” he turned off his lights, feeling the ones in his chest dimming, too. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

“Dude! I’m telling you professor Kim been fucking one of her students!” Taehyung had said, mouth full of food.

“No way, she’s like the sweetest professor ever!” Jimin had always seen the good in people, “who was it though?” He’d always been curious, too.

“You know that, uh, guy from calculus last semester?” Jimin hummed, picking up his friend’s underlying question, “The one who’d kiss the professor’s ass? Yeah, apparently he liked kissing it too much.”

They’d gone out with their friends for dinner, for a while Seokjin had gotten distracted by the joyous atmosphere that his friends had always created. 

“Joonie, pass me the salt.” It had felt the closest to normalcy in a couple of weeks, but it was soon cracked by the frigid movements of the other.

“Here.” Eyes purposely avoidant, “dude, that’s nasty!” sorry, Jin. I’m not interested. The underlying intrigue that had been in his voice said anything but. “Can’t believe someone would ruin their career over some dick.”

“A lousy one, bet.”

“Jungkook, what do you have against the guy?”

“It’s because tae fucked around with him a little last sem-”

“Jimin!” Taehyung exclaimed, throwing glances at a particular spot across the table.

Jungkook choked, a scowl was forming on his forehead, sparking Seokjin’s curiosity about what had happened. Seokjin knew the youngests like the back of his hands, but that will be a discussion for another day.

Seokjin had tried to not let his feelings consume him, the sinking type where you feel like everything is not in order but you don’t know what to do. How to fix things.

He looked at his roommate from across the table; heart threatening to spill. He really, really hadn’t been used to not being on the receiving end of the younger’s attention. He’d been used to having him lean into his space when they’re laughing; to subtly bumping their shoulders in some secret language they’d picked up throughout the years. He’d been used to the younger staring at him a beat too long; fingers pressing a bit too hard for it to be unconscious. 

His eyes lingered on one poorly hidden hickey, mind drifting to that night. Namjoon’s prints weren’t as visible, but the ones he’d left in his heart had been the heaviest thing he’d ever worn. 

“Speaking of a good dicking, though,” oh, no. He didn’t need much to know where Taehyung was going to with this, not only did he want to spark Jungkook’s jealousy he was coming after them, too. “Namjoon, spill.” He demanded, pointing at his friend’s hickey with his chin.

“There’s nothing to spill.” It had hurt him more than he expected.

“Oh, come on!” It was the devil #2 also known as Jimin that urged him, “Seokjin, i need gossip, now!”

“I-“ he shook his head, thoughts running around his head like crazy.

“Yea, Jin!” Jungkook interfered, and Seokjin was one annoying asshole away from snapping. “I’m so curious!” His mocking tone told Seokjin that he already knew and was having way too much fun with it.

“I don’t keep taps on his sexual life, brats.” He settled attempting to sound nonchalant. 

“Boohoo, what kind of friends are you?!”

He heard Namjoon snicker, and wanted nothing but the ground to swallow him then. Luckily, his friends’ attention spans allowed for the topic to change rather quickly.

Hoseok and Yoongi had joined them later on after being held up in the studio, assimilating instantly to the atmosphere. Bickering, and talking like they’ve been there from the start. They’d somehow managed to move from a debate after another over some senseless things. Everyone had been joining in. Everyone except for him. 

“Hey,” of course Hoseok would notice something was wrong, “you ‘kay?” He contemplated an answer, what was he supposed to say? I’m in love with my best friend, but I’m scared shitless? I think we kind of almost barely were gonna fuck until i ran away?

“Yeah.” He found himself mumbling, “you sure?” Hoseok had always been attentive to his friends, “you and Joon seemed off lately.” Something inside Seokjin needed the validation. The confirmation that he wasn’t imagining all of this.

“I-“ he wanted to admit, “‘ts nothing.” 

Hoseok studied him for moments, “If you say so.”

And just like that the conversation ended; his friend had returned to entertaining their group of friends. From the opposite side, he’d felt someone’s stare directed at him. He knew the stare. 

Their eyes met, and for the first time Seokjin found himself unable of reading Namjoon’s signals. The younger had looked upset. Lips forming a line, jaw jutted and eyebrows arched downwards. Seokjin didn’t like that expression on him.

For a second, he’d worried that maybe he’d caught on to his feelings. To the hungry kisses and touches of the other night. He’d worried that Namjoon felt repulsed by them now that he’d regained his sobriety.

That night he found trouble shutting his mind off once again, only there hadn’t been a particular warm presence to engulf him but warm tears on his cheeks.

Their communication had been at its worse. One word answers, and ignored texts. Seokjin, had been at his worse. He’d rack his mind to find an answer to what’s happening. He found himself with two ultimatums; either break the remainder of the bridge or just let it swayed by seasonal wind. Either confess, or leave matters to fate. Now, he’d always been rational. He’d known that either one of these would end up hurting him, he was just weighing his options. 

The weeks passed by slowly and agonizingly; proving to him just how big the Namjoon-molded piece in him is. 

His friends had caught on to his sour mood, they’d ask him, “what’s Wrong?” 

“Nothing,”

He wondered if they’d poked at Namjoon too, what kind of answers would he give them? My roommate—my best friend kissed me, and now I can’t be with him the same?

“Seokjin, this isn’t healthy.” He’d just finished his last class, and came across Yoongi in the halls. 

“I know, Yoongi.”

“And?” He pressed, “aren’t you gonna do anything to fix it?”

He was looking out for him, like how he’d always have, “how can i?”

“Just tell him!” His voice echoed through the halls, “goddamn it, you’re worse than i am.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re not one to talk.” He’d felt bitter, “you’ve been ogling Jimin ever I introduced you to him!” 

“Well then, I’m happy to announce that we’ve been a thing for almost a month!” What? Maybe it was fucked up to feel jealous of his friends, to feel like there was a race he just lost.

“Why...” he swallowed his pride, “why didn’t you tell me?”

“You know me,” the younger rubbed his neck, and it was then he noticed the slight pink of his cheeks, “it’s still new, i guess?”

Seokjin nodded his head understandingly, his childhood friend had always been private. “I’m happy for you both.” His voice bordered on flat.

Like on cue Jimin had came up from behind them, instantly latching onto his boyfriend, “got you!”

“Hey, babe.”

“Hey,” they kissed chastely, “hey, Jin!”

“Sup, Jimin.” He attempted a smile, “congrats.”

“It’s your turn, now.” Yoongi’s hand touched his shoulder, “you and him need to talk things out, alright?” 

Jimin observed the two friends, looking like he knew exactly what they’d been talking about.

“Yeah.” Talk things out. The idea didn’t appeal to him much, but he’d been mature enough to realize that it was needed.

“Hey, mom!” 

“Jinnie!” His mother’s voice filled the room. He’d Skype called her on a weekend evening, missing her more than ever.

“I miss you so much,” he may had whined a bit, “how’s Germany?”

“I missed you more, sweetheart!” She always sounded so nice talking to him, voice soft and loving. “Ugh, I’m bored here! I wish you were with me.” 

Seokjin laughed, “where’s dad?”

“He’s off to a board meeting, leaving me all alone in here.” She looks around the room, “in this big empty room,” she sighed, “you know, one of the butlers is starting to look real good, right now.”

“Mom!” His mother was always a little conniving like that, driving his dad insane.

“Oh, shush! Let an old woman live!” They both laughed, when it died his mother got this expression on her face that made Seokjin on edge.

“So, what’s new with you, baby?” /here it comes, “how’s university life? Classes? Love life?” She dragged slowly.

“Uhm,” he stalled the inevitable, “fine, good and... not so good?”

“Oh?” She looked surprised, as if it was not the answer she was waiting for.

“It’s a little complicated,” he started,

“Talk to me, honey.”

“I don’t know where to start, mom.” He threw a side glance at the other part of the room. his part.

“Is it about Namjoon?” Always so conniving, so attentive. Seokjin nodded. “I spoke to him the other day.”

“What for?!” Everyone was—except for him, apparently. The thought made his chest ache.

“Don’t raise your voice, young man!” She reprimanded, “you wouldn’t answer my texts!” He didn’t answer anyone’s texts, really.

“What did he tell you?”

“Seokjin,” her tone changed into a gentle one, “he didn’t say anything, which is what worried me.” 

“I think.. i fu-screwed it up.”

“Bullshit,” Seokjin was taken back by his mother’s bluntness, “it takes two to mess up something as good as you guys had.” He’d always admired how perceptive his mom was, her intuition never failing her. Seokjin could have used some of that.

“Something happened between us...” he confessed, “something that could have been good until i messed up.”

“Kim Seokjin,” she jokingly scolded, “did you at least use protection?

“Mom!” He exclaimed, she was impossible. you’re just like each other, a certain voice invaded his mind. “It didn’t go that far.” He blurted our quickly, deep flush extending to his neck. 

“Seokjin, dear.” She sighed, “what are you waiting for?” He didn’t have an answer. “You two work so well together, I’ve seen it.” He gulped down tears, “now, I’m an old lady and I’m telling you that you two have some of the most compatible energies I’ve encountered.” 

He sniffled, he wasn’t sure what made him break. Maybe, it’s the validation. The little not so unrealistic hope that Namjoon could possibly feel the same way about him.

“You think so?” 

“Trust me, sweetheart.” It was hard not to when she sounded so sure, “and most importantly trust your instincts.”

He finished the call shortly after, thinking about all the things his mother had said to him until sleep creeped up on him.

He woke up and made a decision. He was gonna tell him soon. He was just stuck on the how. And when. And where. His mind in a loop of all the possibilities, Namjoon could reject him. He could stop rooming with him. Stop hanging out. Their whole dynamic could get ruined, thus ruining their group’s dynamic—

“You can be dense, sometimes.”

So he called his younger friend for help. Hoseok was closest to Namjoon after him and Yoongi, he needed his input. Not his attitude.

“Excuse you!”

“Excuse ME?!” He exclaimed, “you dragged me up here at crack ass in the morning, so excuse your sorry ass!”

Maybe going to Hoseok was not the best idea, see he was kind and careful. He was also impatient sometimes, too.

“Did Yoongi tell you anything?”

“No, but I’m smart enough to know what this meeting is about.” He countered smugly, “it’s about Namjoon, isn’t it?”

“No!” He defended, only to be met with a flat expression, “gee.” He hated his friends, he considered taking applications for new ones, “yes, but you don’t know about what specifically!”

“Easy.” Hoseok snorted, “I’d say it’s about your undying love for him.”

Seokjin stammered at the accusation, it was right but he didn’t have to be so blunt. He prayed his face didn’t blush as hard as it felt it did. The younger, laughed confirming his fears.

“Chillax, dude,” He took a sip of his coffee, “okay, shoot.”

The pressure rose rendering Seokjin nervous and antsy, he contemplated a way to approach the subject. Concluding that there wasn’t a way other than diving right into it.

“Do you...” he started, “has he said anything about me?” 

“He said plenty.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Hoseok,” he couldn’t bear how his curiosity ate him up, “what did he say?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“He isn’t... talking to me, technically.”

Hoseok inhaled contemplatively, the older understood that there must had been some kind of history between the two. They’d known each other for longer, they must had known fairly enough about each other. Which is why he called him in the first place.

The junior in front of him laid his beanie on the table and ruffled his hair, he was probably organizing his thoughts but with each moment Seokjin curiosity chewed on him harder.

“Listen,” he said, “Namjoon... he’s delicate in a way.” He’d known that, “he’s not weak, by all means,” he’d known that, too, “but... he’s a person that carries a lot in his heart, you know?” i know.

“I know.”

“Right,” he continued, “he’d been haunted by his own thoughts ever since i met him...” he paused, he was a good friend, Seokjin thought, “he just always seemed a little lonely... until–you.”

It surprised him, he started thinking of the Namjoon he didn’t know. The one who was before he’d met him.

“How so?”

“I don’t know, I think you filled a void in him that no one else could.”

“Didn’t know you were a romantic, Hoseok,” he joked, he couldn’t handle the seriousness. He didn’t want to think of the man he was in love with being sad and lonely.

“Oh, shut up.” The younger retorted, he continued with a teasing look on his face, “besides, those are his words not mine.”

“He... told you that?” His heart quickened its beat over the statement.

“Yep.” He emphasized, “apparently alcohol makes him more of an emotional dweeb.”

“Don’t i know it,” he said to himself.

“So, if you wanted someone to give you a cue,” Hoseok said in finality, “here it is. Tell him, Seokjin.” 

“Yeah, but how?” He was pleading for an answer.

“Look, you practically know him more than i do, now.” He leaned towards the older, “but I don’t think he wants big gestures, he just wants you, Jin.” 

“Yeah,” he considered the younger’s input, “ i guess I’m more than enough, huh?.” He shamelessly joked, the younger looked unappreciative of his humor. tasteless fool.

They left the cafe with a hug and words of encouragement and gratitude. Seokjin knew what he had to do; he had to tell Namjoon about his feelings as soon as possible. He needed to do whatever it took to rebuild the bridge, and to cross it. But this time, with his hand in Namjoon’s. 

He took out his phone and dialed a certain number.

“Sup, Jin?”

“Great. You’re up!”

“Thanks to you, asshole.”

“Anyways, Yoongi, do you know where Joon is?”

“I see you finally grew some balls, huh?”

“Oh, shut it.”

“You fucking called me, you don’t get to sass me!”

“If you don’t tell me now, I’ll tell Jimin how you once got hard while drunkenly gushing about his smile.”

“I did not!”

“You didn’t, but tell me. Now.”

“Ugh, you’re annoying. He left to your dorm twenty minutes ago.” He suspected the younger had kept tails on when he left so he could avoid Seokjin further. 

“Thanks, bye.” He hung up and started jogging, hoping to catch his roommate before it was too late. He was panting and sweating by the time he reached the building. His stomach was churning the few minutes he rode the elevator. Head going back and forth, trying to grab the right words to say. 

He got out of the elevator, walking the hallway to their room. He stood for what must had been seconds calming his breath before he opened the door and bumped into something–someone hard.

“What the-“ he was right on time as the younger was about to leave. Namjoon tried to move past him to exit, but Seokjin reflexed through pushing him back into the room by the chest, and closing the door behind him.

“Jin, what the fuck are you doing?!”

His other hand had locked the door from behind his back to prevent the younger from easily leaving, “kidnapping you.”

The younger stammered then argued, “first of all, you did not kidnap me. I came here with my own feet,” he continued, gesturing with his hands, “second of all, this is my room, too! Therefore it is not kidnapping!” He stated. 

“Fine. I’m keeping you imprisoned.” A sudden sense of nonchalance came over him. Lead by his stubbornness.

“Wha- let me go!” He pushes against Seokjin’s hand, but the older was keen on getting closure. He was determined, “No. Not until we talk.”

Namjoon laughed bitterly, “theres nothing to talk about.”

“There’s quite a few, i believe.” Seokjin retorted tauntingly, tired of acting like there wasn’t anything wrong.

The other sighed in defeat, knowing well how stubborn the older was. “Fine, talk.”

“Promise me you won’t leave until we’re done?”

Namjoon stared at him for moments, neutral expression on his face. He opened his mouth and sighed, “i promise.”

“Can we sit first?”

So they sat, each on his own bed. Too far away for Seokjin’s liking.

Now that he had the younger’s attention he started to fret, not really knowing how to start exactly. The younger’s gaze at him making him fret even more.

“Okay, i was so focused on catching you I didn’t really have time to word what i want to say.”

“Oh, yeah?” Namjoon replied rather quickly, sounding bitter. “Let me help you, then.” Seokjin swallowed nervously, “why the fuck did you run out on me that night?” Oh, he was definitely angry.

“I was scared.”

“Of what?” He asked ridiculously.

“Of everything.” Seokjin admitted, “of fucking this up.” He continued, “we’re friends, and roommates. I couldn’t bear the idea of risking this.” How ironic, he thought, “ironically that’s exactly what i did.”

“But why would you?” Namjoon asked so disbelieving of how the older could think like that.

“I don’t know, Joonie!” He yelled frustratedly, “what if we don’t work out? What then?” He looked down, “i never want to lose you as a friend.”

“You would never,” Namjoon countered, “do you honestly think you mean so little to me? That I would leave you over a kiss?”

“No-“

“Jinnie, why didn’t you just talk to me?”

“Because if i did I would’ve told you that i-“ he started quickly only to halt at the words. His tongue used to holding back, but he couldn’t bear it any more. “That I’m in love with you, Joonie.” He said defeatedly. 

The younger froze, and worry started clouding Seokjin. All the demons chanting louder than ever. “If you want to stop be-“

“Don’t finish that.” The younger shut him up, “Don’t finish that sentence, Seokjin, because it would never happen.” He emphasized.

“So... where do we stand now?” The question hung in the air for a while, the other not saying anything. Seokjin was starting to actually panic, heart preparing for whatever that could come.

“In the middle of the room.” He finally said.

“Huh?” 

“Just meet me halfway.” 

He stood up slowly and started walking half the distance to Seokjin’s bed. The older followed suit. They stood opposite each other, small space keeping them apart. A space that kept getting smaller as they both leaned in into each other spaces. 

“So?” Seokjin asked voice wavering and body barely holding itself together. Wanting nothing more than to embrace and be embraced.

Namjoon stared at him lovingly, dazed smile stretching his lips, “so.” He looked down for a fraction of a second before his hands took Seokjin’s face and pushed it against his. Lips instantly finding each other. 

Seokjin felt a million emotion rise through him, confusion, relief, love, lust. But not fear. He wasn’t afraid anymore, he wasn’t anxious. He was genuinely basking in the close presence of the other, the feeling of him. Namjoon angled his faced gently to deepen the kiss, his nose pumping hot streams of breath warming the older’s cheeks. It wasn’t any less heated than their first kiss, but something about it felt so different. The limits he supposed, he didn’t think of them. The limits of a seemingly limitless friendship didn’t apply to them anymore because this wasn’t just friendship. They’ve crossed the bridge to what’s more—at least he hoped what this was.

“Wait,” he muttered against Namjoon’s lips, pushing him back gently with his palms. “Does this...” he was panting, “does this mean you feel the same way?”

Namjoon stared at him unblinking until he started laughing, “Jin... are you serious?!”

“What?! I need to hear it...” he felt so bashful like this.

“Kim Seokjin,” the younger started, saying his name in the sweetest way ever. “I’m in love with you,” he said slowly, “been in love with you for a while–hell, probably since the day we met and you cracked that dumb chicken tender joke.”

At that Seokjin wanted to do a million things, including crying of happiness and kissing Namjoon till his tears dried. 

He didn’t remember the joke the younger was talking about, actually. 

“Which one?”

“You don’t remember? God, it was embarrassing.” He chuckled, “absolutely cringy, but it did it for me.”

“Guess that makes you embarrassing, too.”

“What a couple, we are.” a couple. Seokjin was sure his heart would leap out of his chest. But this time he was also sure the younger would be there to catch it. 

“I like the sound of that,” he leaned closer, touching his forehead with Namjoon’s. Then titling his head to capture the younger’s swollen lips. He’d dreamt of these lips before, saying all the pure things he’d longed to hear. Doing all the impure ones he’d longed to feel.

They were still standing in the middle of the room where They met. Spilling years worth of wasted confessions into each other’s mouths. Kissing in fluctuating rythems between too sweet, and too hot. “Fuck, Namjoon,” he breathed against the other. 

“I’d love that,” the younger responded teasingly, and Seokjin would admit that time his dick did twitch in his pants.

“God, don’t fucking-“ memories of that incident rushed through his mind, noises he failed so hard to forget. “Remember that time?” He found himself asking, “when i... walked in on you?” He was too ironically shy to say it.

“Yeah,” The younger huffed in embarrassment and Seokjin wanted to smooch him right then.

“I got so hard that night, i jerked off in the shower when i came back.” He confessed his sins.

“Fuck-“ before he could finish his sentence the older had pushed him all the way to his bed, practically throwing him on it, himself following. Laying almost completely on top of him.

“Then when we made out,” he said while maneuvering the younger and himself to lay horizontally on the bed. Bodies still flushed. “I was sure if we kept going for longer, We wouldn’t have stopped.”

“I didn’t want to,”

“But i would have regretted it—we both would have, Namjoon.”

“I know,” 

they stayed silent for a few moments, taking their time in familiarizing themselves in each others arms as lovers. Seokjin had his head resting against the younger’s shoulder, body half on top of him. Legs loosely tangled in each other. Namjoon’s arm was embracing him, delicate fingers were playing with his hair. He hadn’t felt this content in months, years even. It was one of those moments where you’ll never take back, you can never recreate. And he wasn’t planning on wasting a second of it.

“Hey,” he whispered, eyes shut, “who were you supposed to meet?”

“Hmm?” Namjoon hummed in question, “oh, no one i was gonna go back to Yoongi’s.”

“So no one’s waiting for you?”

“No...” he dragged in response, “why-“

His question got stuck in his throat as Seokjin reared back from where he was resting, and placed himself on the younger’s lap. Knees hugging Namjoon’s hips, arms on each side of his head. Their faces mirrored each other’s flush, lips slightly open in wonder and forthcoming noises. He’d felt hands caress his thighs starting from his knees and landing on the junction of his own hips. 

“‘Cause i got other plans.” He tried to sound seductive and sexy, even attempting a wink but this was Namjoon. His best friend, his roommate. His lover. They both had started cackling at the silliness of it all.

“Was that supposed to turn me on?” The other asked through laughter.

“Oh, as if it didn’t!” He laughed some more, he could actually feel the younger squirming under him. The press of his Jeans prominent against Seokjin’s sweats.

“Never denied that,” he pulled the man atop of him by the collars into another kiss. Messy, and unrestrained. 

“Fuck, your lips,” he pulled back a bit, just enough to catch his breath. 

“You better follow up with all these invitations, yeah?” 

“What-“

It was his turn to get stuck in his throat, interrupted by the sudden change in position. The younger had flipped them over, their bodies bumping and rubbing against each other in the process.

“Fuck my lips?” He whispered into his ear, not exactly waiting an answer.

“Joon–“

He couldn’t get the rest of the sentence out before the younger started kissing him again. His lips leaving new prints all over him, /marks. On his face, down to his neck. Burying his face in it, lips relentless. Seokjin’s hands finding solace in His lover’s hair. The other hand; in his shirt, bunching it with his fist.

“Ah- fuck,” the weight on top of him was heavy, making him squirm underneath. Namjoon picked up his moves and lifted some of his weight on his elbows. Their faces were so close that way, eyes staring into each other, and Seokjin fell in love with the younger’s details all over again.

“You’re beautiful,” he heard himself say, his hand moved to touch the other’s face.

“Hey, that’s my line.” He said lowly, seemingly untrusting of his own voice. Sounding so shy for the first time that night.

Seokjin leaned upwards and gave him a quick kiss, heart still disbelieving of everything. Namjoon returned the kiss with more favor, continuing his abandoned line of kisses. Hands sneaking up under his shirt, feeling Seokjin’s warm skin of his stomach. Moving to his sides, and bunching it up under his armpits. The little expanse of skin that was bared by his own shirt lifting up touched Seokjin’s and made him all tingly. He kissed down his neck moving down to his chest so agonizingly slow. Planting a new line of small kisses, getting wetter as he moved down, and down, and down until he reached his bellybutton. Causing Seokjin to let out small whines all the while, his dick twitching into hardness.

All the while the older’s hand never leaving Namjoon’s hair. His eyes never leaving the younger’s face. Seokjin’s legs instinctively spread to accommodate the man in between his legs, making him light up with a questionable smirk.

“Didn’t even have to ask,” he teased smugly, enjoying how fast the older spread up for him. Challenging him to fight back, and Seokjin always liked a little challenge.

“Yeah?” He retorted, “I’m not the one who’s gonna end up fucked in the end.”

“You sound too sure about that.”

“Just a few minutes ago you were begging me to fuck your mouth, so yeah.” He countered confidently.

“Begging?!” The younger exclaimed, “you exaggerate too much!” He heatedly continued, “and may i remind you that you were the one moaning “fuck me, Joon” just now!” he finished with a bad imitation of Seokjin’s whiney voice. 

“Ugh! That’s a bold lie right there!” He engaged, “i moaned “fuck” and “Joon” separately, learn the difference!”

They stared at each other in fake rivalry for moments before cracking up harder than before. 

It’s funny Seokjin thought, how he believed everything would be different once he confessed when nothing changed at all, not really. There they were: Seokjin’s legs spread, Namjoon filling up the space in between. dicks half hard—with a promise to fuck abandoned in favor of bickering instead.

“Oh god, who thought making us fall in love was a good idea?” 

“I don’t know, but I wanna send ‘em a basket of fruit as a thank you.”

“Fucking cheesy,”

“You’re getting too brave, Kim Namjoon.”

“You like me brave,” 

his attempt to sound sultry causing Seokjin to laugh again, “i like you sucking my dick better.” He sighed in contentment, his stomach not so content, however, “but i think I’d like breakfast even better.”

“You got your priorities straight, young man.” Namjoon teased with a fake pretentious accent.

“The only thing straight about me!”

They chuckled at that while Seokjin got off bed, “gonna wash up.” heading straight to the bathroom to change and freshen up. When he came out the younger had been laying on the bed reading a book. fucking nerd. 

my fucking nerd. 

He stood by the bathroom door staring at the unsuspecting younger, thinking about the when they met at that literature class. The time where he looked at him and thought “i feel like he could mean something to me, one day.” The time where he realized he was right, the time where he looked at him but through different lenses. The first time they kissed. 

He thought about his best friend. He thought about his roommate. 

He thought about all the possibilities that came in the shape of one Kim Namjoon. His best friend; his roommate.

And now; his lover.