Chapter Text
Namjoon sleeps at the dorm for the next week. At first, it’s just because he misses it, misses being around the other guys regularly. Then it’s because Jungkook crawls into bed with him sometimes, and then Taehyung and Hoseok both start crashing at the dorm as well.
He’s grateful, really, to the others, and the support they give him. Hoseok and Taehyung push him to talk when he’s not quite ready, to reach breakthroughs he needs, and Yoongi and Jungkook are the perfect rocks to lean against when gravity throws itself every which way and Namjoon feels like he’s floating through the days.
Seokjin brings him food regularly, making sure he’s eating at least once a day, and Namjoon is grateful to him too. The others can all cook passably, but Seokjin’s meals always feel like something more , compassion and empathy and love and loyalty fried into each bite. Seokjin stays for movie nights too, tucks Namjoon up to his side and lets him exist in the physical contact until Namjoon is certain he’s a real person.
He dodges Sihyuk for nearly a month. Every meeting, Namjoon leans against Yoongi and Hoseok for help, stays quiet and lets the others lead, and avoids eye contact with the man. Sihyuk catches the hint after a few days of watching Namjoon avoid him, and with the comeback coming up and several debuts and shows, Sihyuk himself is busy and away from the company for a while.
The lights of the hallway are off, as Namjoon approaches the door, but he presses on and unlocks the door, opens it and shuts it behind him with a quiet click . Sihyuk looks up from the papers spread across his desk, his brow furrowed. His mouth opens and snaps shut when he catches sight of Namjoon standing in front of him.
Namjoon’s hair is longer, recently permed into gentle waves, and the bags under his eyes are example enough of how he’s doing. His sweater is too big, barely clinging to his shoulder on one side, and he’s undone the clips of his overalls, held up at his waist by a shoelace belt Hoseok had made him switch out to. Sihyuk leans back in his chair and takes him all in. His expression flickers somewhere between concerned and hungry, and Namjoon plays with the ends of his sleeves, picking at loose threads.
Sihyuk opens his mouth to speak but stops when Namjoon shakes his head. “No,” Namjoon says, softly, and Sihyuk closes his mouth again, tilts his head. “Let me talk first.”
Sihyuk sits up and carefully puts his papers away into the files, neatening up his desk and then gesturing for Namjoon to sit. Namjoon sinks down into one of the two armchairs in the corner of the room, the rust-colored one that Namjoon himself had picked for Sihyuk’s office some years before. After a minute, Sihyuk stands and joins him in the corner, sitting in the other seat.
Namjoon watches Sihyuk with anxious weariness. When Sihyuk finally settles in the seat, Namjoon looks down at his hands in his lap and fiddles with the thread again.
“I’m not okay,” Namjoon starts in a quiet voice. “I’m not okay with how things have been. But I’m not okay with how they were before either.” He glances up and catches sight of Sihyuk nodding, watching him carefully. Like he might break if Sihyuk moves wrong. Namjoon looks down again.
“I like you, hyung,” Namjoon says and doesn’t look up that time, doesn’t risk seeing the expression on Sihyuk’s face. “I like you a lot. I like it when we spend time together, and you make me feel so- so safe . But this game that you were playing, of coming and toying with me and tugging on my strings, and then leaving me, I can’t do that. I can’t survive like that, hyung.
“And that’s what it is,” Namjoon breathes, finally looking up. “Surviving. I can’t live like that, I can barely survive like that. I can’t go home every night and cry because I just want someone to hold me. I can’t rely on Taehyungie and Hoseok to catch me every time I fall. That’s not fair to them, and that’s not fair to me.”
Sihyuk never opens his mouth, never takes his eyes off of Namjoon. He sits still, save for the few times when he fidgets, when he opens his hand and then closes it into a loose fist again. Namjoon bites back a noise; he wants Sihyuk to fidget, he wants him uncomfortable .
“So either,” Namjoon says, voice tougher despite the soft tone. “Either you get your shit together and figure out what you want, hyung. Or I walk.”
“You walk?” Sihyuk’s mask finally breaks as genuine surprise flitters across his face.
“I walk,” Namjoon nods. “And the others will come with me. I can’t do this, hyung. You’re killing me, literally. This back and forth, this will he, won’t he , it’s tearing me apart. I’m sick trying to take care of myself like this.” Sihyuk shifts in his seat, eyes finally pulling from Namjoon to look away and Namjoon swallows the triumphant, bitter taste in his mouth.
“I’m sorry,” are the first words from Sihyuk’s mouth after the long wait where Namjoon sits, pulling out threads from his sweater again. Namjoon scoffs, and Sihyuk shoots him a look that Namjoon can’t quite place.
“I’m sorry, I am.” Sihyuk says, and he takes a breath. Namjoon waits, his eyes focused somewhere over Sihyuk’s shoulder. “I overestimated what you could handle. I didn’t think about what sort of state you were in when I began this- game, you said.”
“So you’re not sorry,” Namjoon leans forward, grimacing, “you’re not sorry for leaving me to pick up the pieces myself. You’re sorry that I got hurt.” Sihyuk winces. Namjoon leans back, resignation written in his body language and on his face.
It’s not until Namjoon is standing and leaving the office that the disappointment hits him. A deep pang of disappointment as he turns and looks back at Sihyuk. “I really liked you, hyung,” Namjoon says quietly. “I would have forgiven a lot. But I can’t just let you break me again and again until I’m nothing. I deserve more than that. I am more than that.”
Sihyuk doesn’t look at him as he closes the door, and there’s silence save for the sound of Namjoon’s sneakers on the floor as he walks to the elevator.
Within a week, all seven members are back in the dorm. Jimin is, finally, caught up, and it had taken both Hoseok and Taehyung holding him back to keep him from storming to the company himself to give Sihyuk a piece of his mind.
“The question is,” Yoongi says, finally, one night after they eat dinner and curl up on the couches together. His fingers pull through Namjoon’s hair, and Namjoon makes a noise in the back of his throat. “The question is, are we walking? You threatened to, Joon-ah. And we will, if you do.”
Namjoon’s eyes flick up to Yoongi, and then across the room. The other six all wear matching expressions, grim and serious, and Namjoon swallows and then shakes his head. “No,” he says, a whisper first, and then louder. “No. We’re not leaving. I’m stronger than that.” A single raised eyebrow from Taehyung pulls a sigh from him. “I want to see him when he realizes I’m happy.”
Despite the sentence, it’s hell to get there. Namjoon crashes regularly, pressing into other members. They announce in a press release that Namjoon is taking a step back from his leadership duties for health reasons, and Hoseok will function as the temporary group leader. The fans immediately rise up in fights, and Namjoon makes himself sick reading the comments at night.
Happiness comes in small amounts. A genuine smile breaks through the fog the first time he goes out shopping with Taehyung and Jimin and they push him to get a sweater he really wants, if not for the cut-outs on the shoulders. When Yeontan and Holly pass over their respective fathers to rest in his lap on the dorm couch, and when he and Yoongi don’t sign the lease to their apartment again and move back into the dorm completely; Jungkook’s face is worth a thousand sunny days, as he beams at Namjoon.
It takes eight months, and two comebacks, for Namjoon to be able to look Sihyuk in the eyes and smile, confident and self-assured.
The pride in Sihyuk’s eyes doesn’t even knock Namjoon off balance; he didn’t do it for Sihyuk, he did it for himself.
The comebacks come and go and Namjoon finds himself on steadier feet with every week that passes. He laughs with the others, steps back up to his position as leader, but makes it clear that he considers Hoseok a co-leader, that they both need the balance. Hoseok’s smile is warm, proud, and that, more than anything, brings a warm feeling to Namjoon’s chest.
Months come and go, comebacks come and go, and his military service comes and goes, and when Namjoon steps foot into the new Big Hit building, he’s greeted by Sihyuk, a warm look in the man’s eyes. Namjoon doesn’t hesitate to bow politely and smile warmly, greeting Sihyuk as he would an old friend. Maybe it’s just Namjoon’s imagination, but he thinks he sees Sihyuk exhale a sigh of relief.
Namjoon knocks on the door to Sihyuk’s office three months after he gets back from his military service. His hair is grown out to a messy, shaggy mess, not quite long enough to style well, and it’s tucked underneath a beige beanie. Sihyuk calls for him to enter, and Namjoon opens the door, shutting it behind him with a quiet snap.
“Hyung,” Namjoon says and bites back a chuckle when Sihyuk jumps and looks up at him, squinting from behind his glasses; the same glasses Namjoon has always known him to have. “Hyung, come get coffee with me.”
Sihyuk stares at him. Namjoon smiles, hesitant, and Sihyuk nods slowly, and begins to clear away his desk. They walk together to the nearest cafe, and Namjoon ignores Yoongi’s turn and stare at him as they leave the building.
“Not that I’m not grateful,” Sihyuk says dryly as Namjoon pays for their coffees and finds them a quiet table tucked away in the corner. “But I am curious why you asked me to come. After everything.”
After everything. It’s a hell of a summary, and Namjoon swallows a chuckle. “We’re not the same people we were four years ago,” Namjoon points out, and takes a sip of his drink, crossing his legs at the ankles. “I’m not, at least.”
“You want to try?” Sihyuk asks, and Namjoon is endeared by the genuine confusion in his voice. Namjoon laughs and ducks his head, scratching at the back of his neck sheepishly.
“I want to try to try,” he says and Sihyuk stares and then breaks with a huffed exhale and a shake of his head. “I’m an optimist, hyung, you’ve always known that. But I’m also not going to take shit anymore. I’m not a touch-starved kid desperate for any attention now.”
Sihyuk nods and Namjoon self-consciously pulls his hat off, runs his fingers through the mess, and then covers it again, hiding the greying strands underneath the beanie. Sihyuk smiles faintly. “What are you thinking?” Sihyuk asks, finally, and Namjoon smiles wide.