Chapter Text
It took two hours and Seokjin still couldn't find the restaurant, carting an amused Namjoon with him up and down the boardwalk. “It was just a little bistro place, that sold awful fish,” Seokjin complained, hands on hips as he stood, looking up and down the row of build fronts. “I thought it was right here.”
“Could have closed,” Namjoon said, his attention on his frazzled boyfriend more than anything. Namjoon took a bit of pleasure in seeing Seokjin annoyed, in and out of bed. Something about how his usual unflappable demeanor gave way to irritated grumbling and burning red cheeks. “It has been a year and not all restaurants on make it.”
“But how are we supposed to have lunch on our anniversary in the place where I first came to Spain?” Seokjin pouted, looking up at Namjoon. His plush lower lips was puffed out and Namjoon was always weak to those lips, wanting to kiss them all the time. So he did, and Seokjin huffed and swatted at him for it. “Not helping.”
“Jin, let’s just get a meal at a nice place I know,” Namjoon laughed, taking Seokjin’s hands throwing them over his shoulders to draw him into a hug. “Why do you want to eat at a place where you hated the food?”
“Because… because if it wasn’t for that place and it’s awful food I wouldn’t haven’t found you,” Seokjin said, his irritation giving way to sadness. “I left the restaurant and walked down the boardwalk, saw you in the sand painting.”
“Then how about we take a walk and try to see where it is you found me hm?” Namjoon suggested, pressing a kiss to Seokjin’s forehead. “I know where I was sitting, it’s not far.”
Seokjin relented, and Namjoon took his hand to stroll casually down the boardwalk. “I can’t believe it’s been a year already,” Seokjin said, watching the beach and the waves. “I can’t imagine what this past year would have been like if I had decided to take a right instead of a left.”
“Or if I hadn’t decided to take a trip to Salou on a whim,” Namjoon said. “You know, I only come down here every once in a while, but something told me to come paint the beach that day.”
“You said you’d been there for two days because of a wine festival in Tarragona and woke up on the beach that morning,” Seokjin snorted. “Why are you trying to sell it like it was some divine plan for us to meet?”
“You don’t think there was some hand in it? Two koreans in Spain meeting by chance on the beach?” Namjoon chuckled. “I don’t think it was a coincidence.”
“Stranger things have happened,” Seokjin rolled his eyes. He stopped because Namjoon had stopped and together they looked out at the sea. “This the spot?”
“This is the spot,” Namjoon nodded. “You know, you keep calling it our anniversary, but this was just the day we met. Not the day we got together.”
“For me, this was a more important day,” Seokjin said. “My entire life changed meeting you. It may not have been coincidence, or a divine plan. But it sure was important.”
“Yeah, it was,” Namjoon agreed. He glanced over to look at Seokjin, a far different man from the one he’d met one year ago. His hair was longer, a subtle shade of auburn that dazzled in the light. His skin was tanner, his muscles and body more lean and defined. He was relaxed, the sadness that had clung to him like an overcoat had been sloughed off long ago.
Namjoon had met a broken man he thought could use some cheering up and some company, had fallen in love with him unwittingly, and was proud to be able to say they were each others. Like a fine wine, Seokjin had breathed the Spanish air and flourished, his color richer, and Namjoon loved drinking him in.
“We should go, I’m hungry,” Seokjin patted Namjoon’s belly and started to walk away. “And we have to get back early.”
“We don’t have to,” Namjoon said, following after him. But once Seokjin was decided on something there was little Namjoon could do to stop him, so they found a place to have a light lunch before heading back home in Namjoon’s truck.
“Those three don’t need our company every night Hoseok’s in town. In fact, they’d probably prefer we don’t be there,” Namjoon said when they cleared the city proper.
“They wanted us there tonight,” Seokjin said. “What, you afraid Hoseok’s going to suggest we fuck each other again? Would that be such a bad thing?”
“It could be,” Namjoon countered. “We don’t know what goes through his head, or Jimin’s when he gets an itch. The only one we can trust to keep those two reined in is Yoongi and you know he can’t say not to both of them at the same time.”
“Well, to be fair, neither can you,” Seokjin snorted. “Don’t think I don’t know that Jimin lured you to their bed a few times when I was gone.”
Namjoon felt his ears burning and scowled at Seokjin, because he was right and the only way he knew that is if Jimin had gone and told him. Which was the thing Jimin would do, because he was the devil in hot pants.
“We don’t talk about the dark time,” Namjoon said, reaching over to pinch Seokjin’s arm. Mostly because Namjoon remembered very little other than wine, painting, and the occasional time Jimin would drag him away from his self imposed confinement to fuck. “Not that I don’t appreciate Jimin’s help, and that without him and Yoongi I probably would have died from alcohol poisoning, I just don’t think it’s good to think about you not being here.”
“I know you don’t like thinking about it, and I don’t really like it either,” Seokjin said soothingly. “I’m just saying, are you intentionally holding yourself back because you think it’s what I want?”
“It freaked you out,” Namjoon replied, his hands curling around the steering wheel. “I don’t want you uncomfortable I feel like you tried to push yourself to go along with it when you didn’t want to.”
“It’s not that I didn’t want to, I did,” Seokjin said. “The four of you have such a long history, I didn’t know if I would ever fit with you, be able to understand where the boundaries were between you all. I was trying very hard not to get attached. To you, to them, to this place. I didn’t think I could bear it, but in that moment? It’s when I realized how much you cared about me, and loved me, and that they wanted me there too. It was overwhelming. That was what freaked me out.”
“I didn’t think you had known that long,” Namjoon said quietly. “I never wanted to show you how I felt, to… color your decisions, because they were your decisions. I knew you fit with us that first time I took you to dinner. How easily you and Jimin got along and even Yoongi liked you. But, that doesn’t mean that we have to… participate in anything with them. We don’t have to do any of that because that’s not what our friendship is about.”
“Joon, like you said, it’s my decisions,” Seokjin said. “If I want to or don’t want to it’d be my choice. But what I’m telling you is… I don’t want you to think you have to shield me from it. I’m happy with what we have together, the sex is fucking amazing, but that’s not all there is to us. But there’s also them, and your relationship with them is just as important. I am not here to limit you, or define what your actions are. I fell in love with you because of the man you are. If that includes sometimes fucking someone else because that’s what feels good, then don’t think I will tell you no.”
A shadow passed over Namjoon’s face and he frowned. “Tae said the same thing.”
Namjoon could hear Seokjin suck in a breath. They didn’t talk about exes, that had been their only rule. It hurt too much and the past was best left in the past.
“Do you think I’m like Tae?” Seokjin asked, his tone flat. “Do you think I’m going to run away with Hoseok? Or Yoongi?”
“No, I don’t,” Namjoon shook his head. “I’m just saying… sometimes limits are a good thing.”
“Limits are good things for people who like limits,” Seokjin replied. “Do you want limits Namjoon? Do you want me to tell you what you can or can’t do? How is that following hedonism? How is that doing what feels good?”
“Now you’re an expert in hedonism?” Namjoon scoffed and he could tell the conversation was taking a dark turn. They rarely fought, and never about anything serious.
“I don’t have to be an expert to remember what it is you told me,” Seokjin countered, his tone clipped. “Are you seriously going to argue with me about this? I’m trying to tell you it’s okay to do what you want and not to think that I’m going to hold you down and you’re getting mad at me for it?”
“I’m not getting mad, I just don’t think you’re really thinking about what it is you’re saying,” Namjoon said. “You’re telling me it’s okay to go off and have sex with random people.”
“Not with random people you nitwit,” Seokjin sniffed. “I’m saying you and your best friends are going to keep fucking every now and then and that it’s okay! And that sometimes, I might want to too!”
Namjoon blinked, realization hitting him. “You… oh,” he deflated slightly. “You mean, just… just us. And them.”
“Of course!” Seokjin threw up his hands. “Are we having two different conversations? We were talking about those three and the possibility of them wanting to fuck tonight and somehow that translates to me telling you to go ahead and fuck strangers? I’m not Taehyung Namjoon.”
Namjoon took a deep breath and sat back in the seat more, focusing o nthe road. “I’m sorry I made the comparison. You’re right, you’re not.”
“God damn right I’m not,” Seokjin huffed. “I never met him, and though he sounds like a nice person, he really fucked with your head on what was appropriate. Hedonism does not mean hurting people you care about, and he hurt you Unintentionally, I’m sure, but the end is still the same. You were in love, and he left, and you think I’m going to do the same.”
“You’re not, you’re not the same,” Namjoon shook his head. He pulled one hand away from the wheel to curl around Seokjin’s and lace their fingers together. “I guess I’ve still got some things to work out.”
“We both do,” Seokjin said, squeezing his hand. “As long as we’re honest with each other about what we want, this will work. So don’t try to keep me, or yourself, from things. We’re going to dinner tonight and if they ask, well, we can decide in the moment. If not, then great, we’ll go back home and you can fuck me.”
“I guess getting fucked either way is your goal tonight?” Namjoon snorted.
“It’s my goal every night, Namjoon, but some of drink too much wine and pass out,” Seokjin said idly. “I’m talking about me, of course.”
“Of course,” Namjoon laughed.
They rode in silence for a long time, just enjoying the scenery and each other until Namjoon spoke again.
“You don’t regret coming back, do you?” he asked, timidly.
“Not for a second,” Seokjin replied instantly. “I get to travel europe, eat european food and get paid for it. I get good dick as often as I want, and the wine never stops flowing. Why the hell would I want to leave?”
Well, Namjoon couldn’t argue with that.
The sun was still above the mountains by the time they walked the path from their home to Yoongi and Jimin’s for dinner. They were met with Hoseok and Yoongi on the patio, Yoongi on his phone and his head in Hoseok’s lap.
“About time you two showed up, where’d you go?” Hoseok asked, already halfway through a joint. “Jimin was getting antsy that you weren’t going to show.”
“We went to Salou for lunch,” Namjoon said, plucking the joint from Hoseok’s fingers and taking a hit off it. “Why is it so important for us to be here?”
“Later,” Hoseok waved off the question. “Just some news we want to share.”
“We’d tell you but we’ve already been threatened with castration not to say anything until Jimin’s here,” Yoongi said, not looking up. “You know it’s serious if he’s threatening not to get dick again for the rest of his life.”
“Excuse you, but your bits not being intact would have no impact on my ability to get dick,” Jimin said as he came out of the house. “Dinner’s ready, you guys are on time for once.”
They piled in, Yoongi huffing at Jimin and Hoseok sulking when they sat down to eat. Jimin brought out their drinks he called tinto de verano and Seokjin sucked it down like water.
It was when they were mostly through their meal and idle chatter had fallen off that Jimin sat up and looked between Namjoon and Seokjin.
“So, we need to tell you something,” Jimin said, squirming slightly in his seat. “We’re going back to Korea.”
Namjoon dropped his fork and looked at them with wide eyes and shock. “You’re what? Why?”
“We’re going to put out a new album,” Yoongi said. “We’ve talked about it a lot the past couple of months. Jimin and I miss performing, and we miss making music. We don’t know what kind of reception we’ll get, but we want to do this.”
Seokjin felt his heart sinking, and the thought of living in Spain without his neighbors made tears well up in his eyes.
“When are you leaving?” Namjoon asked, his tone deceptively calm.
“Next month,” Yoongi said. “We’ll be in Korea for about two months. We’ve already got most of the album done, we just have to make the rounds you know? And if it doesn’t, then we’ll come home and say we tried.”
“So, you’re not leaving for good?” Seokjin’s heart wooshed in relief.
“What? Oh, no! No, we’re just going there for a little while,” Jimin said. “No, we would never want to leave this place for good.”
“Thank fuck,” Namjoon rubbed his hand over his face. “I about had a heart attack.”
“As if we could leave you here alone,” Yoongi snorted.
“But,” Hoseok spoke up, leaning over the table. “We were thinking maybe you two wanted to go with us? For a little while, not two months. If you want.”
“It has been a long time since you’ve been there,” Yoongi said to Namjoon. “And… Jimin and I were kind of hoping you could write for us. A song, for just us.”
Namjoon blinked a few times, sitting back in his chair. “I… I don’t know. Can I think about it?”
“Yeah, no rush,” Jimin nodded. “We just really would like you guys to be there for the showcase, you know? Friendly faces, support.”
Seokjin could see the hesitancy in Jimin’s eyes and he understood. They were going back, all three of them to a country that didn’t accept their relationship as three people, and more importantly, three men. It was known that Jimin and Yoongi were together, it wouldn’t be hard to track that they were married and living in Spain together. The tabloids and press would have a field day. But, having their friends would help ease the blow.
“Well, if he doesn’t, know that I will,” Seokjin said. “I’ll be there.”
Jimin’s bright smile came out and he leaned over the table to give Seokjin a wet kiss before sitting back down. “Thank you, you have no idea how much that would help.”
“Why do this? Why go back?” Namjoon asked. “They almost destroyed you.”
“But they didn’t, and you know, I want to be able to show those that doubted us that no matter what they think, I’m doing what I want to do,” Yoongi said. “That we’re together, and we make music, and if they don’t like it, fuck them. I’m doing it for us.”
Seokjin couldn’t help but smile, watch how resolved all three of their faces were. This wasn’t something they were doing frivolously. It was important, and Seokjin couldn’t be more proud.
“Alright,” Namjoon nodded. “I’ll go. Just to watch you flip them off in their faces if nothing else.”
Seokjin and Namjoon walked hand in hand back home, tired from their long day. Despite what they had assumed, they were not asked to stay and Seokjin wasn’t exactly unhappy about that.
Not that he hadn’t enjoyed himself with them, and wouldn’t be opposed to it in the future, but tonight felt like it was a good night for lovers to be with each other. A sentiment Namjoon agreed with as soon as they were inside, Namjoon caged him up against the wall and was unbuttoning his jeans.
“You’re a little… mmm… eager,” Seokjin laughed, tilting his head to the side when Namjoon started sucking at his shoulder.
“I’m always eager,” Namjoon said, his hand finding its way into Seokjin’s pants and stroking his knuckles against Seokjin’s trapped dick. “You’re so fucking hot it’s hard to keep my hands off you in public.”
Seokjin giggled, his hands gripping Namjoon’s shoulders. “Could have just thrown me down right on the beach hm?”
“If I didn’t know we’d get arrested, probably,” Namjoon said as he nipped against his skin. “Going to fuck you, just the way you like it.”
“Yeah?” Seokjin’s breath hitched. “Prove it.”
Namjoon growled and pulled him away from the wall. They didn’t even make it up the stairs before Namjoon was tearing Seokjin’s clothes off and pushing his dick into Seokjin’s mouth. Seokjin didn't quite appreciate the stairs in his back but the angle meant Namjoon’s dick was sliding into his throat that he felt like he was choking. Just the way he liked it.
Namjoon didn’t give him much time to get his bearings before he was hauled up and pushed the rest of the way up the stairs and into the bedroom. They didn’t make it to the bed, Seokjin finding himself on his hands and knees and his cheeks spread wide as Namjoon dove in. Seokjin’s arms nearly gave out on him a couple of times as Namjoon licked aginst his walls and stretched him open.
By the time they did make it to the bed, Seokjin had come once on the carpet from being fucked hard and now he was being folded in half and pummeled harshly by Namjoon’s dick. It was exactly how he liked it. Rough, hard, and messy, the kind of fucking that had him floating and nearly blacking out, coming to and being cleaned up by Namjoon. It was the kind of fucking Seokjin knew they both needed that night, a reminder of where they started. It was like that first time when Namjoon had given his all into fucking Seokjin, giving him just a taste of what he’d be in store for for months.
Well, now they had years ahead of them to fuck, to love, and to be each other’s inspiration.
For Namjoon, he’d found not only a muse in Seokjin, but a partner that met his desires tooth for tooth. There wasn’t much they didn’t agree on, sexually or otherwise, and he’d been a soothing balm to repair his broken heart. If Taehyung had been a wildfire, scorching the wilderness of his emotions, Seokjin had been the cool summer rain that encouraged new life to grow amongst the ashes.
Seokjin, on the other hand, had found in Namjoon truth and honesty that had been lacking in his life. Namjoon had never put himself above Seokjin’s needs, cared for him, healed his broken heart one brushstroke at a time. Namjoon had been a gesso to his worn canvas, a blank slate to work with and painted him in by the numbers. In Namjoon, he had found someone to let him be himself, to come to his conclusions and let himself discover who he really was as a man, a friend, and a lover.
If Seokjin was a fine wine, then Namjoon was the tannin. If Namjoon was an oil paint, then Seokjin was the binder. They needed one another, they completed one another, they fit impossibly together because they had let their love breathe under the Spanish air.
Because, as they say, you can’t rush a masterpiece.