Black Swan

by moonphorias

Chapter 4: chapter 4

Jungkook left without much fanfare, a cheeky grin thrown at Namjoon promising that he was going to play games all night long, followed by Namjoon's amused chuckle and a gentle sound of the door shutting.

As Namjoon settled onto the couch of the living room, he took one long look at Saerom, fast asleep in her baby chair next to Mickey, and sighed. Jungkook was gone and Namjoon felt– well, Namjoon felt bored. Who was supposed to laugh with him while watching Disney films? It was simply unfair, he almost huffed– he knew that it had only been a couple of days, but god it felt like longer. At least the rain was gone, the thought, casting a glance outside.

What a weird, weird few days. He was almost pleased for things to go back to normal. Except...

Well, except he really wasn't. He shifted on his seat, turning to grab his phone off the coffee table. Frowned down at it, as if a text from Jungkook would really come through a few hours after the other man had left. Jungkook probably had things to do, Namjoon reasoned, and besides– it wasn't Jungkook's job to entertain Namjoon. They were friends, yes, but they most certainly didn't need to spend every waking moment together.

Just then, a text came through– not from Jungkook, but from Namjoon's colleague and other best friend, asking if Namjoon had lyrics ready for the beat Yoongi had sent him from his home in Daegu.

Sheepishly, Namjoon had to reply in the negative– a blush coating his cheeks realising he'd been so absorbed in playing house with Jungkook, so focused on the ministrations of laundry and cooking and baby-care, that he'd completely forgotten to finish up his lyrics.

Yoongi

We could work on them together, if you want???

Namjoon's brows furrowed– wasn't Yoongi in Daegu? He replied as much

Yoongi

Oh, didn't Hyung tell you? I moved back to Seoul last week lol.

At Yoongi's last message, Namjoon immediately pressed the video call button next to his icon, waiting only a couple of seconds for the phone to stop ringing and Yoongi's smiling face to fill the screen.

"When did you decide you were moving to Seoul?" Namjoon whisper-screamed, ever conscious of how much Saerom needed her sleep and also of how much he needed to not wake a sleeping baby causing her to cry. "Hyung, what the heck?"

"Damn, Joon-ah," Yoongi gave Namjoon a lazy smile, "I thought you'd be happier to hear that."

Namjoon rolled his eyes at his friend's teasing tone. "Of course I'm happy to hear that, Hyung, but– you could have told me! You moved back last week–"

"And I was unpacking," Yoongi pointed out. "And then the city decided to welcome me with a lovely storm that meant I didn't leave my apartment for three days."

Namjoon rolled his eyes at how put out Yoongi sounded, leaning back on the couch. "Don't sound so inconvenienced, you don't like leaving your apartment anyway."

"Namjoon-ah, don't act like you do," Yoongi huffed. "Hey, is that Seok's couch?"

Namjoon looked around him for a moment, realising that Yoongi probably hadn't known he was staying at Hoseok and Seokjin's to take care of Saerom. "Yeah," he cleared his throat, no idea where his sudden hesitation to answer came from. "Seok and Hyung had to go to Gwangju, something up with Seok's mom, so they asked if I could take care of the little one."

Yoongi let out a long whistle. "Damn, they left you all alone to care for their bundle of joy? You? I once saw you kill a plant."

"You saw me kill a plant nine years ago," Namjoon grumbled. "I've since learned to take care of plants, myself, and hatever small humans may be crawling about, don't underestimate me."

"I'm only joking, Joon." Yoongi chuckled before adding, "But damn, they left you all alone? Haven't you had any sleep for the past few days?"

Namjoon's lips pursed, his hand coming up to the back of his neck as if on reflex. "Well," he started, darting his eyes everywhere but the phone camera and Yoongi's face. "Not really."

Yoongi quirked a brow. "Explain not really, Joon-ah? Why do you look so cagey?"

Leave it to Yoongi to sniff out when Namjoon was being cagey. Namjoon sighed. "They asked another friend of Seokjin-hyung's to take care of her with me."

"But no one's been able to leave their house for days?" Yoongi's brows furrowed. "How–"

"We stayed here," Namjoon smiled at the screen, an attempt to be relaxed. He could tell it didn't work. "Jungkook– that is, Seokjin-hyung's friend– we were both here when the storm stared, so we kind of got stuck here together? Kind of miraculous, really– neither of us were stuck taking care of her all alone."

"Miraculous?" Yoongi snorted. "I wouldn't want to be stuck in an apartment with a dog, a baby, and some stranger."

Namjoon's lips pursed again. Okay, so maybe he hadn't been updating Yoongi on his life as much as he normally did. "Well," his voice eked out of his throat. "Jungkook and I aren't exactly strangers. He's actually a really good friend, Hyung."

At Namjoon's words, Yoongi's eyes widened, Namjoon's tone telling his friend of over a decade everything he needed to know about the situation. "You like him?"

"What?" Namjoon yelped, and then cast a tense glance towards Saerom, fearing that he'd woken her. Nope, still sleeping. His shoulder's slumped in relief. "I mean– of course I like him, Yoongi-hyung, he wouldn't be my friend if I didn't."

Yoongi scoffed. "Joon, cut the shit–"

"Don't swear around the baby."

Yoongi levelled a look at him and Namjoon wiped the urgent look on his face right off. Yoongi continued. "Seriously, I know you– you don't like this guy as a friend, you like him," he grinned, "You have a crush on him. Joon-ah has a crush on a boy."

At Yoongi's laugh, Namjoon groaned, momentarily considering putting down the phone, but then decided that would only prove Yoongi's ridiculous assumptions. He glared instead.

"I don't have a crush." he paused. "Jungkook's too nice to have a crush on."

"Oooh," Yoongi giggled. "And he's nice."

Namjoon scowled down at the phone. "Yes! He's nice! Which is why I consider him a friend! Nice is one of the prime adjectives I look for when choosing friends!"

"I'm not nice," Yoongi countered, looking decidedly smug.

"You were a lapse of judgement on the part of eighteen-year-old me, Hyung!"

"Oh, the betrayal!"

Namjoon laughed at Yoongi's over-dramatic voice. "Seriously, Hyung, I don't like him."

"Seriously, Joon-ah," Yoongi mimicked Namjoon's facial expression, slanting his brows down. "You do."

Namjoon rolled his eyes. This conversation was clearly pointless– Yoongi would see what he wanted to see. He huffed. "Anyway, you wanted to work on lyrics?"

"Yes, because you were too caught up in your love nest to get any work done," Yoongi grinned. "Can I come by the diner tomorrow?"

Tomorrow. Tomorrow it was Jungkook's turn, which meant it would be an ideal time for them to meet. "Are you sure?" Namjoon cautioned. "I mean, I know how much you like to work in peace."

Yoongi shrugged. "Maybe the fresh air would do me good. Is Taehyung working tomorrow?"

Namjoon rolled his eyes, again. Of course Taehyung was why Yoongi wanted to visit the diner. Yoongi had held a flame for the cook since he'd met the other man and Taehyung had shoved a plate of nakji bokkeum towards him with a flourish. Yoongi would take any opportunity to see Taehyung– Namjoon would even wager close proximity played a suspiciously heavy role in Yoongi's decision to move back to Seoul.

"He is," Namjoon smirked. "Why, you want to confess your undying love for him?"

"I will do no such thing," Yoongi scowled. "Why are we talking about me anyway? I just asked about Tae–"

"He missed you, you know." Namjoon pointed out. Yoongi and Taehyung had been very close before Yoongi had decided to move away, wanting more time to think without the noise of the city clouding his ears and head, and Taehyung, although he tried not to show it, felt Yoongi's absence acutely. Even though Namjoon had known Yoongi for ten years, not even he had felt so sad when his best friend had left, and he wondered briefly if Taehyung had ever told Yoongi how he felt.

"I missed him too," Yoongi said simply, before moving onto another topic with all the dexterity of Taehyung trying to ice skate. "Anyway, so can I come tomorrow? Or are you on Saerom duty."

Namjoon shook his head. "Nope, tomorrow's Jungkook's turn," he smiled. "Which means he won't be there."

"Is he usually at the diner?" Yoongi asked, confused, and Namjoon realised he'd once again talked himself into a corner about Jungkook, before shaking his head.

"I have to go," he feigned a panicked glance towards a sleeping Saerom, "Bye, Hyung!"

Namjoon was decidedly not in the mood to be interrogated by his best friend, regardless of how much he felt sometimes. Some things were better left unsaid, Namjoon supposed– not that he believed it any one bit.

As if Namjoon had jinxed it by using Saerom's emergence from her slumber as an excuse, a piercing cry startled him out of his reverie, and Namjoon jumped up, his phone forgotten on the couch cushion, as he made his way to the baby chair and picked her up.

Immediately, Saerom's cries quieted down to a whimper, and then a gurgle as she grabbed at Namjoon's ears, probably searching for the earrings she liked to bat at on Jungkook's ears. Almost disappointed (could babies even be disappointed, Namjoon wondered) she frowned, and moved her tiny hand to Namjoon's nose. Namjoon heaved a sigh, not nearly as put out as he seemed. On the floor, Mickey looked up at him and the infant in surprise, being roused from his own sleep by Saerom's earlier cry as well.

Namjoon glanced outside again, walking towards the window juggling Saerom gently on his hip. The sky was still grey, but the wind was quieter, and it looked less angry, less confusing. It was just winter– Namjoon knew it was still a bit too early for snow, but he wondered if the rain had not been a precursor to a gentle white blanket laying over the city before Seokjin and Hoseok came home. Stranger things had happened– like rain in winter– his brain supplied, and Namjoon crinkled his nose.

Oh, that's why Saerom had woken up crying.

Not for the first time, on his way to her bedroom, Namjoon found himself missing Jungkook– if Jungkook were there, Namjoon could probably whine and wheedle a little to get out of the task of changing Saerom. Of course, Jungkook was just as good as Namjoon at whining and wheedling and getting what he wanted, so Namjoon doubted that he'd be too successful, but at least he would have someone to complain about the task to!

Sighing, he placed Saerom on the mat, pushing thoughts of Jungkook aside– he thought finally being apart would help him stop thinking about the other man, not cause it.

~

Namjoon would never get tired of seeing how Yoongi reacted to Taehyung. It almost took his mind off of the warm, lingering hug Jungkook had pulled him into that morning, wearing yet another fluffy sweater, dark green this time, when Namjoon handed off Saerom to his custody for the day.

Namjoon, because he loved the drama, no matter how much he claimed otherwise, did not tell Taehyung that Yoongi was coming in that day. Instead, he walked into the diner bright and early with a grin on his face that Taehyung dutifully described as shit-eating, with a certain level of suspicion, before slipping into the kitchen to make sure everything had stayed in place in the time they'd had to spend away from the restaurant.

He was not disappointed.

Yoongi knew that look in Yoongi's eyes when Taehyung came rushing out of the kitchen at his voice– it looked like all his hyung's thoughts were slowing into a slow-motion montage reminiscent of an old, romantic film, as a gummy smile spread over his face and a Taehyung gasped, rushing towards him with open arms. God, Namjoon chuckled– they were so oblivious, and for why?

"Hyung, you didn't tell me Yoongi-hyung was coming!" Taehyung cried. "I would have made dakdoritang, damn it!"

Yoongi shook his head, pulling away from the embrace a little. "I mean, you still could– Hyung's probably going to be here for a while."

Taehyung turned to Yoongi questioningly, and he continued with a smile. "Namjoon-ah was a little preoccupied, so he didn't finish his lyrics, which means we're going to spend today working on them, because nothing says an eleven year old friendship like hard work!"

Taehyung rolled his eyes, stepping away reluctantly. "Yes, yes, we all know you and Namjoon-hyung are soulmates who've been together for a million and one years, you don't have to remind us."

"Jealous, Taehyung-ah?" Namjoon called from his spot behind the counter, and threw his head back in laughter when Yoongi and Taehyung fixed him with identical glares, Yoongi's face growing red and Taehyung scowling.

"Don't you have money to count or whatever capitalists like you get up to when they're in front of a till?" Yoongi stalked towards him.

Namjoon laughed even louder, ignoring the glowers sent his way– his friends were lots of things, but they could never quite pull off the menacing looks they were trying for in that moment.

"So, hyung," Namjoon grinned at Yoongi, leaning his elbows on the counter. "What can I get you?"

"Coffee," Yoongi grumbled, shifting into his seat.

Taehyung speedily mobilised to the kitchen, calling out a faint I'll get it! In a way that made Yoongi blush again.

Namjoon watched how Yoongi watched the other man walk away. "You're obvious, you know."

"And you're not?"

"Hyung, you haven't even been in Seoul long enough to see me with Jungkook."

"So you admit it's a crush!"

Goddamn, Namjoon needed to learn how to keep his mouth shut. He pursed his lips, darting his eyes to the counter. "I didn't say that."

"But you implied it, Joon, nice try," Yoongi laughed, before reaching into his bag and pulling out a notebook. "Now, take a seat and get your laptop out, we've got work to do."

Yoongi and Namjoon worked diligently for hours, sometimes glaring at each other when they disagreed, but falling into that same easy rhythm they'd held for so many years almost instantly. When Yoongi was stuck, Namjoon was there to help him out of it, and vice versa. Namjoon didn't realise just how much he'd missed working so closely with his best friend.

By the time Taehyung poked his red face back out of the kitchen, it was almost dinner time. "Hey, in case you two feel any form of hunger," he started. "I managed to scrounge up some stew. You know. If you want."

Just then, Yoongi's stomach rumbled, and Namjoon giggled a nod at Taehyung, who returned a few moments later with an entire pot and ladle, followed by three large bowls.

"Expecting to feed an army?" Namjoon asked, standing so as to take the bowls from Taehyung.

Taehyung blushed, darting his gaze to Yoongi for a moment before replying, softly. "I thought Hyung could take the rest of it with him– he hasn't been in the city for a while, and a home cooked meal would do him good."

Namjoon sighed softly at Taehyung's words, the sweetness of the gesture warming his heart. Taehyung really cared for Yoongi, it was evident, and Namjoon found himself extremely glad that his best friend didn't have to deal with the hassle of unrequited feelings.

Unlike someone, his brain chimed in, and Namjoon rolled his eyes. There were no unrequited feelings.

As Taehyung and Yoongi took their turns spooning stew over their bowls of rice, a notification came through on Namjoon's phone, and he turned it over curiously, to see it was a message from Jungkook.

The message was simple, too simple to make his heart race the way it did. A picture, of Jungkook holding Saerom, identical nose-scrunches aimed at the camera, with the caption miss you, hyung. Namjoon's heart clenched. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he missed Jungkook too, although not in the platonic way Jungkook clearly meant.

Typing out a reply, Namjoon wasn't even aware of the soft, sappy smile that had crossed his face, until Taehyung poked him with a finger.

"Who's that?"

"Probably Jungkook," Yoongi snickered.

Namjoon's head shot up from his phone, Yoongi and Taehyung staring at him as if they were on the verge of a laughing fit. Namjoon scowled, and spooned some rice into his mouth. What did Yoongi and Taehyung know, anyway? What right did they have to tease him about Jungkook– they knew nothing about his friendship with Jungkook!

Namjoon shook his head, deciding to ignore Yoongi and Taehyung in favour of his own sanity.

~

Namjoon's mornings handing off Saerom quickly became a favourite part of his day, looking forward to it more than he'd like to admit, he thought, picking up some coffee to bring over for Jungkook when it was his turn to watch her again.

In fact, Namjoon became so accustomed to seeing Jungkook in the mornings, that when Hoseok and Seokjin returned after just over a week in Gwangju, Hoseok's mother thankfully healed enough for them to return to their daily lives, Namjoon found himself missing his little morning chats with Jungkook, the same way he missed cooking dinner with Jungkook or playing games with Saerom as Jungkook watched, which was absolutely ridiculous, because Namjoon was– Namjoon didn't rely on people like this! Sure, Namjoon liked his friends, loved them, looked forward to seeing them, but there was a Jungkook-shaped hole in his heart and it was not helped by the fact that after taking off to look after Saerom, both Namjoon and Jungkook ended up swamped with work things to do, as if their jobs had calmed down just enough for them to get comfortable, too comfortable, with each other before suddenly forcing a distance between them. Namjoon, as much as he was loathe to admit it, was not pleased.

Neither, as it seemed, was Taehyung.

"Hyung," Taehyung whined at him one day when the diner was slow enough for them to be lounging around on the barstools. "You've been so moody lately, what gives?"

Namjoon frowned at Taehyung's description of him, putting down the phone whose screen he had been staring at intently for some minutes, as if it would manifest a message from someone. "I'm not moody."

Taehyung gave him a look and Namjoon sighed, throwing up his hands. "What do you want me to do, Tae?"

"Text Jungkook," Taehyung nodded towards his phone, and Namjoon rolled his eyes. Was everything going to be about Jungkook now?

Of course, logically Namjoon knew that he was the one making things about Jungkook, but could anyone blame him? Jungkook was so great, so lovable, literally anyone would want the other man in their life!

Just then, the bell above the door jingled, and Taehyung's head shot up in curiosity. Instead of it being Yoongi, who Namjoon assumed Taehyung secretly hoped would pop in, a lithe, beautiful man with blond, swept-back hair walked in, sunglasses perched on his nose even though it was winter time, and Namjoon could swear he saw Taehyung's jaw drop.

Taehyung was up in an instant. "Hi! How can we help you?"

The man lowered his sunglasses, sending a sunny grin Taehyung's way. "What do you recommend?" he asked. Or, well, purred.

The man's face was soft, beautiful, delicate even, but his voice when speaking to Taehyung was decidedly not, and judging from the reddening of Taehyung's cheeks as he gazed starrily into the man's eyes, he didn't seem to mind much. Namjoon fought a scowl. Taehyung liked Yoongi-hyung– he wasn't supposed to go all moon-eyed at strangers!

Taehyung's head tilted, and Namjoon's jaw almost dropped, because was Taehyung flirting? God, the last time Taehyung had looked like that was– well, when he had first met Yoongi, really. Taehyung was flirting! As he led the man to the barstool next to Namjoon, Namjoon almost shook his head.

The man, decidedly shorter than Namjoon, called out a gentle hurry back, as Taehyung booked it into the kitchen to begin making whatever he'd recommended for their new customer, and then turned to Namjoon in interest. An almost predatory grin crossed his face. Namjoon's eyes widened.

"You must be Kim Namjoon," he said softly, holding out a hand. "I'm Park Jimin."

"Hi?" Namjoon shook it. "Uh, what brings you to our little place, Jimin-ssi?"

Jimin shook his head, a tinkling giggle resounding throughout the diner. God, Namjoon thought– Taehyung would be gone for the man if he heard that, which, judging from the clatter that came from the kitchen, Taehyung did.

"No need to be so formal," Jimin smiled. "Call me Jimin– after all, we're pracitcally friends already."

Namjoon's brows furrowed. What did he mean? Sensing Namjoon's apparent confusion, Jimin provided. "I'm a friend of Jungkook's," he smirked. "He's told me all about this place, and you."

Jungkook spoke about him? Namjoon's logical brain tried to reason that when talking about the place he went often for a meal, of course Jungkook would mention the owner, but the little voice in Namjoon's head took those words and practically ran with them, not allowing Namjoon a single second to catch up before he was blurting. "He talks about me?"

Jimin's grin got wider, impossibly so, and Namjoon wondered how someone who wasn't Taehyung or Yoongi could look so very cat-like. Namjoon gulped, feeling like a gazelle that had just fallen into a lion's clutches.

"He does," Jimin cooed. "He had quite a lot to say about you, Mister Kim."

Namjoon cleared his throat. "All good, I hope."

"Oh of course," Jimin tittered, and Namjoon was filled with the odd feeling that he was somehow missing something, that Jimin knew something he didn't. "He can never shut up about you– Namjoon-hyung this, Namjoon-hyung that– god, I thought I'd been replaced?"

"Replaced?"

Jimin looked at Namjoon like he was missing something. "I'm Jungkook's favourite Hyung, of course!"

Namjoon found himself laughing, but sobered himself at Jimin's put-out look. "No, no, I'm not doubting you!" he rushed to assure the other man, who really did look like a kitten when he pouted. "It's just– Seokjin-hyung would have a lot to say about that!"

"Seokjin-hyung's Jungkook's other favourite Hyung," Jimin said, satisfied. "We practically raised that kid on our backs together."

Namjoon laughed again, the familiar rhetoric Seokjin often used almost music to his ears. So this was how the gorgeous man knew Jungkook.

Namjoon wondered why there was a sigh of relief heard in his brain at this new bit of information– perhaps, because, and Namjoon would have never admitted this to anyone, that he'd considered, for a moment, that Jimin would be competition. God, Namjoon hated that word. Competition for what, he asked himself, trying not to scowl at Jimin's perfect appearance. Namjoon would not even have had a shot in hell, not that he had a shot without Jimin being simply Jungkook's friend and nothing more.

~

 

Jimin seemed to really like the diner. Now, whenever the bell at the top of the door chimed, Namjoon didn't hope it was Jungkook– instead, he assumed it was Jimin, Jungkook's messages becoming more and more frantic as the younger became busier with the end of the year. More so, Jimin seemed to really like Taehyung, which maybe bothered Namjoon more than he would have liked to admit until he texted Yoongi to come by one day, incensed at the fact that his best friend would not be getting the happy ending with his other friend that he deserved, and proceeded to get a front-row seat to the most confusing and sexually charged encounter he had ever witnessed. And Namjoon had to watch Hoseok court Seokjin.

Yoongi walked into the diner with a small scowl twisting his face, eyes darting around for the person who dared attempt to seduce Taehyung from right under his nose, a scowl which melted off into a look of surprise and awe once he laid his gaze on Jimin's delicate form sipping a cup of coffee and giggling at something Namjoon said. Namjoon couldn't find it in him to be annoyed with Jimin too much– Jimin was like candy, sweet, kind. He could see why he and Jungkook were friends. And if Yoongi hadn't been madly in love with Taehyung since Namjoon couldn't even begin to try and calculate, Namjoon would not have had an issue with him at all.

Namjoon's eyes came up to meet Yoongi, as the bell chimed above the entryway. Jimin's gaze followed Namjoon's, the other man turning in his seat to get a look at the person who'd just filled into the room. A slow, languid smile spread over Jimin's face, and Namjoon was once more convinced that Jimin had been a big cat lounging in the savannah of sub-saharan Africa in another life, waiting for prey. Apparently in this context, prey was Yoongi. Namjoon swore he saw Yoongi gulp and immediately wondered if it would be odd of him to get his phone out to capture the moment, because Yoongi? Gulping? Yoongi looked like he'd just laid eyes on someone who was going to eat him and didn't entirely mind and Namjoon was fluctuating between the kind of confused that came from an event disrupting your entire world view and absolutely, decidedly delighted.

"It's you," Yoongi bit, a little choked, eyes solely on Jimin.

"It is indeed, Yoongi-ssi," Jimin drawled, unfolding himself from the barstool and meandering towards Yoongi.

They knew each other? "How do you two know each other?" Namjoon's brows furrowed as he looked between the two, Yoongi's cheeks turning a shade of pink Namjoon wasn't sure should have been possible and Jimin's grin growing only wider at the question. Was Namjoon missing something? Namjoon was missing something.

"We don't–" Yoongi started to say, but Jimin's smooth voice cut in, causing his lips to purse.

"Why, Yoongi-ssi was kind enough to attempt to steal my toilet paper several times a few weeks ago," Jimin smiled, "Isn't he such a charmer?"

Yoongi was filching... Toilet paper? Namjoon turned to his friend who was staring at Jimin like he wanted to rip his head off, skin rivalling Taehyung's kimchi jjigae. Namjoon wondered if that was healthy.

"I needed toilet paper, okay?" Yoongi threw up his hands. "You would have done the same, Joon-ah, it was during the storm and Jimin-ssi over here," Yoongi glared at Jimin once, before turning back to Namjoon. "Has a habit of leaving his toilet paper orders out in front of his front door like some sort of heathen."

"So you decided to steal it? Instead of... Buying your own?"

Yoongi made a face at Namjoon. "I make no excuses for myself, okay! I did apologise, though, and reimburse him, so I have no clue why he's here and bringing it up now."

Jimin tsked, inching towards Yoongi. "Ah, but you still won't let me take you out."

Namjoon's eyes darted immediately towards the direction of the kitchen. "Take him out? Aren't you interested in Taehyung? Am I missing something?"

"Can I not try and get two cute boys to date me, Joon-hyung?" Jimin pouted. "Can you blame me?"

Yoongi and Namjoon, in an eerie synchronous movement, blinked slowly at Jimin.

"Me and Taehyung?" Yoongi pointed to himself, voice sounding a little far away. "You want to date me and Taehyung? Is that what you're saying?"

"Who's dating me?" Taehyung's voice boomed from the corridor, clearly only moments away from seeing Yoongi and Jimin, the objects of his affections, right next to each other. Namjoon's brain was struggling to catch up. So much had happened since Yoongi walked through the diner door, Namjoon wondered if he would ever be able to process. Scratch that, he wondered if his best friend, now a tomato, would ever be able to process.

Yoongi turned towards the direction of Taehyung's voice, panicked, but before he could do anything like dive underneath a table or spontaneously combust, Taehyung burst into the main room and froze, blinking slowly. "Yoongi-hyung? Jimin?"

"Tae," Jimin crowed, "We were just talking about you–"

A sharp jab, nothing more than a nudge, really, judging from how Jimin clearly feigned pain, from Yoongi. "How's it going, Tae?"

"...Am I interrupting something?" Taehyung asked, his eyes darting between the two men, at a speed that Namjoon found himself worrying for the other man's eyeballs.

Namjoon was not going to be there for whatever was going on between those two. He'd had enough of Taehyung and Yoongi's flirting and Jimin and Taehyung's flirting and whatever the hell he'd just witnessed between Yoongi and Jimin which Namjoon thought no one in their right minds would classify as flirting, but hey, stranger things have happened. Namjoon got up as quietly as he could from the stool he was sitting on and slipped down the corridor, determined to not eavesdrop on whatever was going on there. He took his phone with him. May as well annoy Hoseok while he was at it.

Instead of a message from Hoseok, however, Namjoon opened his phone to see a message from Jungkook, and opened it, shooting a gaze over his shoulder as if Taehyung or Yoongi would come out into the small alleyway he'd slipped out to and tease him, as if they even had the time.

Jungkook

Hey, Hyung! I was wondering if maybe you'd want to go ice skating? It's unusually cold, and the rinks haven't been very full recently, so I was thinking we could try it out? You know, see if that pilates balance extends to the real world?

Namjoon snorted at the message. Of course he'd like to go ice skating– who did Jungkook think he was. Besides, Jungkook may have been athletic, but Namjoon was really good at ice skating.

Namjoon

You're on... Say, didn't I win our little swearing bet, though? Shouldn't I be choosing what we do?

Jungkook

[gasp] Hyung, are you, perhaps... scared? Is that what this is? Are you scared of me being a better skater than you?

Namjoon was more or less aware that the smile that was gracing his face was along the lines of sappy and disgusting, but Jungkook was so adorable, he really couldn't help it.

Namjoon

Jungkook-ah, you couldn't scare me if you tried... Name a time and a place, and I'm there!

Jungkook and Namjoon arranged a meeting, the in a few days on the weekend, and Namjoon felt himself almost floating as he walked back into the diner over ten minutes later, sure that Yoongi and Taehyung and Jimin had to have sorted out their little... Namjoon didn't even know what to call it by then. He walked into the front room and saw that that was not, in fact, the case.

Jimin had somehow wrestled both Yoongi and Taehyung into a single seat at one of the booths and had firmly planted himself on both of their laps, a feat Namjoon did not think could be humanly possibly considering how tiny Jimin was in stature, but then corrected himself– this was Jimin he was talking about, and even though Namjoon hadn't known Jimin as long as he had known Taehyung or Yoongi, he did know that the limits of whatever was humanly possible did not apply to Park Jimin. He shook his head.

The three didn't even notice as Namjoon made his way to the entry-way, closed the door, and turned the sign to closed trudging back to the bar to grab his things before silently slipping out again.

Maybe Namjoon could have used a break.

~

Namjoon found himself a lot more nervous for ice-skating than he would have expected, a fact bolstered by the contents of his entire closet finding themselves strewn across his bedroom floor miraculously, much to Hoseok's absolute horror when Namjoon face-timed him for help, finally admitting defeat.

"Namjoon-ah, are you sure you're okay?" Hoseok peered at him in concern, bringing his face close enough to the screen that Namjoon could have sworn he could have counted all two pores on Hoseok's perfect skin. "It looks like you're spiralling."

Namjoon rolled his eyes, huffed. "I'm not spiralling, Seok, just– I don't know what to wear, okay?"

"A sweater?" Hoseok stared at him as if he'd grown two heads. "A coat? Joon, you always know what to wear."

"Yeah, but like," Namjoon made a frustrated noise and flopped himself onto the the pile of clothing that had steadily grown on his bed over the course of the morning, feeling the fabric puff out around him. He didn't know how he was supposed to explain that he knew how to dress, obviously he did, and he knew how to dress for ice-skating because duh, but Namjoon found himself unable to choose an outfit that was suitable because damn it, he was ice-skating with Jungkook, and somehow that felt different, even though he knew it wasn't. Not even in the slightest!

"But like?" Hoseok's voice prompted form the speaker.

Namjoon rolled his eyes, glaring at the camera once more. "But like I'm just stumped. Come on, Seok, you're my best friend– help me out?"

Hoseok grunted. "There's something you're not telling me."

There was indeed something Namjoon was not telling him. Namjoon had specifically neglected to mention ice-skating as well as Jungkook in his initial message for help, because Hoseok would take that information and make it into something it wasn't, and Namjoon already had to deal with the little voice in his head that was screaming, since the second Jungkook asked him about ice-skating, the words date date date! Over and over again, and Namjoon was sure it wasn't talking about the fruit.

"Why would I not tell you something!" Namjoon's voice was high. "I tell you everything!"

"Which means that it's something you really don't want me to know," Hoseok countered, getting a very scary gleam in his eyes. "Perhaps... Something about Jeon Jungkook?"

Namjoon shut his eyes and groaned again. "Seok–"

"It is, oh my god!" Hoseok almost squealed. "Joon, I can't believe you didn't tell me you're going on a date with Jungkook!"

"It's not a date! Who said it was a date!"

"You implied it was a date when you omitted the information," Hoseok crowed sweetly, and Namjoon's brows narrowed. Why was his friend like this? Why couldn't Hoseok just let him lie? Or omit information, or whatever? Was this really necessary?

"I omitted the information," Namjoon ground out. "Because I knew you'd make it into something it isn't. Like a date." he brushed a hand over his face in frustration and looked at the screen again, at Hoseok's shit-eating grin, and breathed in deeply. "Look, can you just help me? Please? I'm asking you to please just this once help me so I don't make a fool out of myself–"

"On your date–"

"So I don't make a fool of myself," Namjoon's voice rose a little to drown out Hoseok's, "And I need you to not say anything, okay? Please, Seok."

At that, Namjoon looked into the camera, an expression that would put both Mickey and the average labrador to shame, and Hoseok sighed, a sound of defeat. Namjoon stifled a grin.

"Fine," Hoseok grumbled. "But after– you will tell me everything."

Namjoon waved his concerns away. "Yes, yes, after."

~

Namjoon showed up at the skating rink near Mapo-gu, a little sweaty in the outfit Hoseok had picked out. Even though it was winter, Namjoon's sweat glands had always been a little problematic, and damn it, he was nervous, okay?

He looked down at his outfit of white wool sweater and dark jeans and hoped it wasn't too– Namjoon didn't know, preppy? Dressy? He didn't necessarily feel uncomfortable in more fitted clothes, of course he didn't, but it was such a departure from his every-day wardrobe that he found himself almost yearning for the familiarity. And he couldn't even wear his coat, because he was hot, damn it!

Briefly, Namjoon entertained the idea of maybe not pacing in front of the rink so that he wouldn't be so warm, but dismissed it on the grounds that, well, he liked pacing. It gave him a sense of calm, routine. Pacing was great.

"Namjoon-hyung!" Namjoon's head shot up, his body pivoting in the direction of Jungkook's voice at a speed that made him just the littlest bit dizzy. He caught himself before he stumbled though, so it wasn't too bad.

"Jungkook-ah!" Namjoon's smile hurt his cheeks as Jungkook came bounding towards him, a puffer coat that Namjoon would wager was as big as the man himself enfolding him. Namjoon stifled a laugh. He looked like a little black marshmallow.

As Jungkook got closer, Namjoon could see glitter on his eye-lids shimmer under the streetlights, and he found himself feeling marginally less self-conscious about the liner he'd applied to his own eyes. It was uncharacteristic for Namjoon to put makeup on, but Hoseok had whined and wheedled until Namjoon felt like he had absolutely no choice in the matter. And, if he was being honest with himself a little, he liked it.

"Hi, Hyung," Jungkook skidded to a stop in front of him, not the slightest bit out of breath as he took Namjoon in with one long, lingering look that cumulated in a broad grin. "I hope you haven't been waiting long."

"Nope." Namjoon shook his head. "I just got here!"

"I'm glad," Jungkook smiled wider. "It wouldn't be good of me to leave you waiting, considering I'm about to absolutely destroy you in the rink."

Oh, Namjoon liked the sound of that. He scowled at the way the voice in his head piped up, the image of a miniature brain perched seductively on a rose-petalled bed at the damn tone that thing had. God, surely this was a sign of a psychiatric break?

"You can try," Namjoon smirked. "But I doubt you'll get far, Kook-ah, Hyung's been skating far longer than you."

"You're three years older than me," Jungkook laughed. "It's not that much longer, and besides," he gestured to Namjoon as if his next words were obvious. "Your long, lean limbs will get in your way. I'm certain of it."

Namjoon raised a brow. "You say that like we aren't the same height."

Jungkook simply grinned, moving closer to stand next to Namjoon so their shoulders were touching and Namjoon was 100% certain he was hallucinating the heat that emitted from Jungkook's body. He shook his head. Jungkook showed his teeth. "You see? You're a couple of centimetres taller than me, Hyung, enough to make a difference."

Namjoon knew, technically, their height difference was enough to make a difference to that tiny voice in his brain that just yelled at every given moment about how perfect he and Jungkook were for each other, but he doubted that it would be of real influence while ice skating, of all things.

Namjoon said as much too. Not the bit about the voice, of course not– Namjoon was an idiot but he didn't have a death wish, death of course being imminent if he so much as had to deal of an ounce of the embarrassment of admitting any forms of non-platonic feelings towards Jungkook and the ensuing rejection from the younger.

"You'll see," Jungkook nodded towards the entrance. "Shall we go in?"

Namjoon followed Jungkook in, noticing the determined clench of his jaw as he paid for both of their tickets and skate rentals (when Namjoon protested, Jungkook simply sent him a look, as if Namjoon wanting to pay for his own ticket had something to do with him being nervous about Jungkook being better than him. Namjoon shook his head. Jungkook was better than him at a lot of things, but Namjoon was absolutely certain that at least in this area of athletic expertise, he had the upper hand).

Namjoon noticed the way Jungkook winked at him when he slipped on his ice-skates, and he noticed the way his stomach began churning, bubbling, something light and absolutely disgusting building a house there, no doubt at the behest of that damned mental voice.

Namjoon simply smiled back sweetly, tying his own skates. He paused for a moment, considered a little. Decided that if Jungkook wanted to play it like that, then Namjoon would too. He fumbled with the laces a little, feigning confusion.

Jungkook's head immediately shot up, the other man still on his second foot. "Hyung? Are you okay? Do you need help?"

"Nope," Namjoon struggled a little harder, and heard Jungkook's amused huff.

Almost instantly, Jungkook was on his knees in front of Namjoon, and Namjoon blinked, once, twice, and tried not to think of it. Namjoon failed, of course. Jungkook on his knees was a beautiful sight, and Namjoon was privileged to get to see it even in the context of ice-skating, and not sex. He blushed. Why was he thinking of sex, what the hell was wrong with him, he had athleticism to prove, damn it!

"Let me help you," Jungkook's hands came around Namjoon's to ease his own off the laces, and Namjoon could only think soft soft soft while Jungkook expertly tied the laces. He tapped his other foot. "Next one."

Obediently, Namjoon lifted his other foot for Jungkook to take hold of and tried not to think of how Jungkook's hand felt around his socked ankle. Breathing became difficult. It was definitely too hot, Namjoon shouldn't have worn the fucking sweater, he felt like he was going to die.

"There you go," Jungkook patted Namjoon's foot when he was done, smiling up at him with that disarming smile. "All done."

"Thanks, Kook," Namjoon choked out, looking down at his skates.

At his words, Jungkook rose, and Namjoon really couldn't help the way his eyes followed Jungkook's thighs straining against the denim of his jeans as he rose from his knees up to standing and strolled back to his own bench to finish with his other skate. Momentarily, Namjoon forgot his initial aim, which was to impress Jungkook with his skating skills. Why he wanted to impress Jungkook, he didn't know (because you liikkkkkeeeee him, the little voice in his head kept crooning. Namjoon ignored it. It was not right.), but it was a goal for that day, and that goal involved being better than Jungkook at ice-skating.

When they got out to the rink, Namjoon wobbling along a little, never quite able to get used to walking on ice-skates, Jungkook shot him a grin and stepped onto the ice, flawlessly gliding across the rink and then– to Namjoon's absolute delight and horror– promptly fell on his backside. Namjoon was on the ice in an instant, skating after him, skidding to a stop right next to him and reaching out a hand to help Jungkook, a put-out pout resting on his face. Jungkook took Namjoon's hand almost grudgingly, Namjoon stifling a smile as he pulled the other man up.

"Have something you want to tell me, Kook-ah?" Namjoon asked, after he was certain the only thing hurt from the tumble was Jungkook's pride.

Jungkook scowled down at his skates. "So maybe I am not as adept at ice-skating as I thought?"

Namjoon chuckled, placing his palm in Jungkook's own. "Got a little ahead of yourself there, didn't you?"

"What are you doing?" Jungkook said shakily as Namjoon made to move, eyes wide as they rested on their clasped hands.

Namjoon blinked at him. "Helping you skate? So you don't fall again? Seriously, Kook," Namjoon did not smirk. "Hyung's got you."

Namjoon was ignoring the effect of his words on Jungkook, bruised pride turning into a beatific grin that spread across the other man's entire face. Jungkook looked positively delighted at the turn of events. Namjoon wondered why.

Jungkook's hand closed more firmly around Namjoon's own as he shook their arms a little, signalling he was ready to go again. "Thank you, Hyung."

Namjoon was off at a slow glide, pulling Jungkook with him, unsteady in a way that reminded Namjoon of, predictably, Bambi. Namjoon smiled.

"You good there, Kook-ah?"

Jungkook's eyes shot up to his from where he was staring at his own movements on the ice, his feet scrambling a little at the change of orientation. "Yeah, fine, just– How are you so good at this?"

"Years of practice," Namjoon laughed, going the smallest bit faster while Jungkook wasn't concentrating on his trembling legs. "Surprisingly, ice-skating was the only sport I was really good at in school– any winter stuff, really."

"Really?" Jungkook asked, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. "But winter sports are usually the hardest."

Namjoon shrugged, the movement of his shoulder's jerking Jungkook forward a bit, Jungkook's balance becoming unstable before Namjoon reached out another arm to steady him. "Definitely the universe playing a joke on me, I'm sure," Namjoon huffed, before turning to face Jungkook. "You want to go a little faster?"

Jungkook nodded, and off they went, Namjoon pulling Jungkook along as he skated backwards, trying his level best not to get lost in the way Jungkook's eyes were twinkling at him. They weren't really twinkling at him, of course– if was obviously just the lights from the rink reflecting, but if Namjoon could be honest, Jungkook held entire galaxies in his eyes at any one moment and Namjoon was always, always so incredibly privileged to be able to get to look at them.

After a while, Namjoon could sense Jungkook becoming a little more sure of himself, a little more firm in his strides across the ice, and he felt a sense of pride blossoming in his chest. But even though Jungkook had evidently grown used to the feeling of being on a different surface, he didn't let go. His hand clenched tighter around Namjoon's, and Namjoon found that he didn't really want Jungkook to let go. He breathed, swallowing whatever words had decided to rise up in his throat.

When they were done, Jungkook looked at him from where he was removing his skates, face a happy pink from the exertion of the sport. "So I guess you win this round too," he mumbled, and Namjoon laughed.

"I do, yes," he grinned. "My my, two favours from the legendary Jeon Jungkook, whatever shall I do with them."

Jungkook pinked, mumbling a I can think of a few things under his breath, and Namjoon's brows furrowed at his words. "Huh? I couldn't quite hear you?"

Jungkook's eyes darted to Namjoon's in surprise. "Oh, I said," he paused. "Nothing involving rinks."

Namjoon blinked. God, being with Jungkook was messing with his brain, his ears, his heart– he was literally hearing things! This couldn't be healthy! He smiled. "Not fond of the idea of getting beaten again?"

"I will find something to even the score," Jungkook nodded his head, convinced. "I will find something that will save me, you mark my words, Hyung."

"God, you act like I'm going to force you to marry me as a favour or something," Namjoon laughed, but uncertainty filled his mind as he took in Jungkook's deer-in-headlights expression.

Namjoon tried not to frown. "You know I wouldn't do that, right? Besides, it's not like I could force you to do something that you don't ever want to do."

This time, it was Jungkook's face that morphed into a frown. "Huh? I– no, Hyung, it's not that, I just– my mind got away from me," he said finally, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it. I don't suppose you want dinner?"

Namjoon paused, thinking. He was quite hungry, he supposed. Dinner sounded good, and food would surely take his mind off of whatever it was doing with respect to him and Jungkook and the idea of marriage and the fact that Jungkook looked so decidedly not pleased. "Sure! It's not too cold out, anyway."

Jungkook eyed Namjoon's coat which was still on the bench. "You amaze me, Hyung, you truly do. Middle of winter, and yet you're dressed like a supermodel."

Namjoon blushed. "I run warm, it's a curse, really," he looked down, making his brain move the fuck on from Jungkook's words. "Should we go?"

Jungkook nodded, and rose to stand, holding out a hand for Namjoon in an imitation of how Namjoon had done earlier that night. Namjoon took his hand wordlessly, a small smile crossing his lips as they left the rink.

At the station, Jungkook once again wrapped up in his gigantic marshmallow coat, they decided that rayeon at the Han river was a pretty good way to go, and Namjoon giggled at how much he was enjoying himself. They didn't speak much on the train, shooting little grins at each other, the usual hustle and bustle of the Seoul metro replaced by young people going to and from wherever their weekend plans lay.

Namjoon thought it was nice.

He and Jungkook carried their ramyeon, and a bag of snacks to make the meal more filling, out carefully to an open spot on the bank of the river in the park, settling themselves on the ground, not before Namjoon laid out his own coat to serve as a make-shift picnic blanket. Jungkook tried to protest, but Namjoon simply shook his head.

"I run warm, remember?"

Jungkook had nothing to say to that, pursing his lips and settling down on the coat with hesitation.

"I get cold easily sometimes," he said, blowing the steam on his ramyeon as Namjoon followed him down. "Not often, but towards the end of the year," he giggled. "Well, let's just say you'd be hard-pressed to see me in a skirt anywhere between December and February."

Namjoon's brain instantly flashed to the tiny powder-blue skirt the other man had donned at one of their meetings, and he shifted, swallowing the thoughts down as if that would help the way his breath seemed to leave his lungs at the memory. Jungkook. Skirt. Jungkook skirt. Namjoon found himself grateful that he didn't have to worry about Jungkook wearing a skirt for the next few months, and then scowled, telling himself why would I even be worried about Jungkook wearing a skirt? It's his body!. Namjoon ignored the little voice in his head, which simply chuckled.

"I see," Namjoon nodded, wondering when his ramyeon would become cool enough to eat. He remembered the white sweater he was wearing as he blew on it, and set it down, looking at his chest to make sure that it hadn't spilled. God, he hadn't even thought about his sweater when ramyeon was suggested.

Jungkook noticed his glance, and nudged Namjoon's foot with his own. "What's up?"

Namjoon turned to him. "Just forgot the fact that I'm wearing white. I consider myself an expert ramyeon eater, but even I am not immune to spills on white fabric."

Jungkook laughed, loudly. "Well, then I guess you'll just have to take your shirt off, show off that pilates bod." At Namjoon's bewildered, and embarrassed, blinks, he clarified. "You know, like when I spilled jjigae on myself that one time?"

Namjoon nodded, understanding dawning on him. "Ah, but I have a coat, Kook-ah." he pointed at his brain as if that had anything to do with his decision to bring a coat, and not Hoseok's urging. "Always prepared."

Jungkook just laughed again, bringing the ramyeon up to his mouth along with the chopsticks to slurp some noodles. Jungkook, Namjoon noticed, did not get a single splatter of soup on himself this time.

Namjoon decided to brave his own ramyeon, carefully sipping on the soup and bringing some noodles to himself, feeling his body fill with warmth at the broth. He made a noise of pleasure, closing his eyes– there really was nothing like ramyeon in winter. It literally tasted different.

When he was done with his bite, he turned back to Jungkook, who was staring down at his own cup a little red in the face. Namjoon supposed ramyeon did do that to a person, especially the extra spicy variety that both he and Jungkook had selected.

"Hyung," Jungkook's voice was gentle against Namjoon's ears. "Your place runs until late, right?"

"It does," Namjoon nodded, wondering why Jungkook brought it up all of a sudden.

"Why do you never–" Jungkook started, then breathed. "Why are you never there? You know, when it turns into a bar?"

Namjoon pouted his lips, trying to find an answer. "I'm not the most fond of, you know, clubbing. Besides, I work better on my music at night, so it just makes sense to leave that part of the business up to night-owls like Taehyung and Sooyoung."

Jungkook nodded. "But surely you don't work on music every night?"

"I don't– why?"

"Well," Jungkook started, hesitation bleeding into his voice. He picked at his cuticles mindlessly. "I suppose it's because I'd like to maybe pop by the bar one night? When you're there– like, I've been there before, but Taehyung-hyung says it's a whole different atmosphere with you there!"

Namjoon blinked again. That was certainly a request– not that he minded, of course, he just wondered what else Taehyung had told the younger about him. Of course Namjoon said yes– would he ever be able to say no to Jungkook? And Jungkook looked so excited– it was such a small thing, Namjoon really didn't see why Jungkook was so hesitant to ask, but it was sweet. Cute. Jungkook was cute.

~

Yoongi stared at him from across his dining table, cup of coffee in hand, disbelief bathing his face. "Namjoon... how didn't you know?"

Namjoon threw up his hands in annoyance. "What do you mean, Hyung?"

Namjoon had invited Yoongi over for coffee, and also to help him plan his outfit for that night, when Jungkook would be coming to the bar and Namjoon would be working. Or, well, more like supervising. It was actually kind of like a party, if he thought about it– his friends would be there, and it was always more full in the evenings, the place's atmosphere attracting a very specific crowd of people that made it trendy. Namjoon was excited, he supposed. For Jungkook to see it, he meant– logically, Namjoon knew in his brain that Jungkook already had seen the bar at night, when it was bursting with people, but he hadn't seen it with Namjoon there, and well, Namjoon wanted in some form to bathe in his success in front of someone who's opinion really, truly mattered to him.

Yoongi clicked his fingers in front of Namjoon. Namjoon shook himself out of whatever reverie he was stuck in. "Joon? Hello?"

"Yup," Namjoon nodded. "Joon's here."

Yoongi rolled his eyes. "Did you even hear what I said."

Namjoon took a long sip of his own coffee. "I did not. Mind repeating?"

"I said," Yoongi gave Namjoon a long, assessing look, before quirking his brow. "That you're in love with Jungkook."

Namjoon's brain halted to a stop. Was Yoongi insane? He thought this conversation was over ages ago– Namjoon wasn't in love with Jungkook! Namjoon didn't even like Jungkook like that! Sure, Namjoon thought he was hot, but Jungkook was a model, anyone would think he was hot. And he was nice, and kind, and sweet, and maybe made Namjoon's heart race sometimes–

"Or at the very least," Yoongi continued, eying him as if Namjoon would bolt out of the room at any moment. Namjoon was seriously considering it. Seriously. "You want to fuck him."

Namjoon blinked. Did he really need to answer that? Was Yoongi really asking him to answer that?

"Joon-ah," Yoongi sighed, levelling Namjoon with a look. Namjoon groaned. He hated Yoongi's looks. Namjoon could feel something build in his chest, something he felt like he'd forgotten, as if Yoongi was drawing words out of him that Namjoon had no clue he could even say. "You like Jungkook. You're attracted to Jungkook. I'm sorry to break it to you, kiddo, but Hyung's right. And you know I'm right."

"You're not," Namjoon started, feeling panic build in his chest. "Hyung, you're not right, you can't be right!"

"Then what do you call this, hm?" Yoongi gestured around them, to the items of clothing scattered around Namjoon's apartment, somehow making their way to his kitchen. Namjoon was slightly aware that he may have gotten carried away presenting the options to Yoongi, who had listened to him for approximately thirty minutes before demanding he sit down and drink his coffee. Namjoon hadn't the heart to refuse. "What is this? Why are you so bothered by how you look? And why is Jungkook the reason you're bothered by how you look?"

Namjoon blinked again, shaking his head. "But I'm not, Hyung!"

"Not what?"

"Not," Namjoon searched for the words, looking around him for a moment before turning to Yoongi. "Look, I can't be in love with him, that's not how things work!"

"Joon, have you ever been in love before?"

Namjoon ignored Yoongi's question, carrying on. "To love someone, you have to know them for a long time, months–"

"Namjoon, you have known Jungkook for months–"

"Years!" Namjoon interjected. "You have to know them and like them and you have to have history and–"

"You like Jungkook, don't you?" Yoongi gave Namjoon a puzzled look. "You know him. And, you like him. And you have history, Jesus, Joon, you've spent almost every day with him since October, barring that one week when he was really busy. Hell, you lived together for a few days!"

"Not voluntarily!"

"Are you saying you didn't enjoy living with him?"

"When did I say that," Namjoon frowned. "Of course I enjoyed living with him, he's Jungkook."

Yoongi let out a long, loud sigh, and Namjoon felt the little voice in his head giving him a smack to the forehead, which really should not have been possible.

Yoongi wasn't right. Namjoon didn't love Jungkook, Namjoon was not in love with Jungkook, and hell, even if Namjoon was in love with Jungkook, it's not like it would even matter, because Jungkook was not into him, so why was Yoongi even bringing it up? Namjoon just– he wanted to look presentable! Jungkook was a dear friend, the dearest he'd made in a hot minute, and sue Namjoon, he wanted to impress him even a little bit.

"What does that mean, Joon? He's Jungkook," Yoongi quoted, a huff of exasperation making its way out of his chest. "You're using the fact that Jungkook is himself as an excuse as to why you're not into him, which makes literally no sense. You're a logical agent, Namjoon," he looked at him. "Please."

They were literally getting nowhere like this. "Hyung," Namjoon almost whined. "What do you want from me?"

"Why don't you want to say you like him?" Yoongi asked. "Why won't you consider it, because I know, Namjoon, I know you and I know your brain has connected the dots. Come on, now."

This time, Namjoon sighed. He blinked. Yoongi looked genuinely, truly concerned. "It's not that I don't want to like him," he started. "Anyone would be privileged to like Jungkook, you know that. It's just..."

"What? I'm waiting." Yoongi gestured to himself sitting cross-armed after Namjoon paused a little bit too long.

"He's... A lot. He's important to me. He's- god, Hyung, he's literally everything, he's smart and he's funny and god, he can eat, and it's just– you know, why would someone like that want to date me? Like, it's a hopeless case, seriously, Hyung, leave it." Namjoon looked at his hands.

When he looked up, Yoongi was staring at him as if he had grown three heads and a green arm.

"So you're saying," Yoongi said slowly. "That the only reason you are not in love with Jungkook is because he wouldn't feel the same? Is that it?"

Namjoon stared down at his hands harder. Well, when Yoongi put it like that, of course it sounded–

"Are you aware of how stupid that sounds?" Yoongi was not a man who raised his voice, and Namjoon found himself shocked at the shrill words escaping his friend's mouth. "Namjoon, you're in love with him! Love isn't conditional, you moron– you can't just pick and choose when you love someone! That's literally not how it works!"

"But that's how it should work!" Namjoon's voice was equally as shrill as he looked up at Yoongi. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware that he was shaking.

"Should doesn't imply will, Joon," Yoongi sighed, shaking his head. "You of all people should know that."

Namjoon frowned even deeper, feeling like a toddler on the verge of a tantrum, his mouth pulling into a rather impressive rendition of the upside-down smiley emoji. "But– I mean, it's not like I expected this–"

Yoongi laughed humourlessly. "You know, for someone so damn artistic, you really are very rigid with things? Jesus, Namjoon, you read books on philosophy for fun– look, what does Taleb say about the unexpected, hm? Life, love– these aren't things you can predict! You told me yourself– none of us know whether a song will do well if we put it out there. We don't know if it'll be a hit! It's pointless following a formula when things like that, social things, things we literally cannot control, are black swans. Unexpected events. Love is a black swan, Namjoon– the same way a fucking economic crisis is. The same way a good song is. Seriously."

Namjoon blinked slowly. Well, that was one way to put it. By the time he finished speaking, Yoongi's chest was bordering on heaving, his breath heavy. Namjoon could see how impassioned his Hyung was by this, how much it meant to Yoongi. And, with a sinking feeling, Namjoon realised that what Yoongi said made sense. Fuck, why did Yoongi always make sense?

"I–" he shook his head, trying to sort through thoughts in his mind. "I don't know–"

"Yes you do," Yoongi stared at him, long and hard. "Do not play stupid with me, Joon, I know you're not. You do know."

Namjoon's mouth pulled up into a pout. "But–"

"Nope," Yoongi popped his word. "Joon. What do I have to say?"

"I just–" Namjoon took a deep breath. Yoongi was– well, Yoongi was unfortunately not wrong. When he put it like that... "I suppose you're right?"

Yoongi heaved out a sigh. "Finally. Just so we're on the same page– you do admit you're in love with Jungkook, right? Or at least, really really like him, like, non-platonically?"

Namjoon gave him a small nod, not willing to look Yoongi in the eye. Yoongi hummed. "Need words, Joon– come on. Say it."

Namjoon lifted his eyes to Yoongi's. In his irises, he saw only love, affection for a long-time friend, and a desire to see that friend be happy. Honest. "I like Jungkook," Namjoon frowned. No, that didn't sound right. He tried again. "I am in love with Jungkook."

The words sounded– well, if Namjoon was honest, the words sounded good to his ears. They sounded right. They sounded true. Namjoon repeated himself. "I am in love with Jungkook."

Yoongi smiled wide. "You are. And that, my ear friend, is why you're in a tizzy about dressing for tonight."

Namjoon frowned again. "But, Hyung, it's useless! Hopeless, even! Jungkook doesn't like me–"

"I swear to god, Kim Namjoon, I will hit you, do not try me." Yoongi said calmly. "I don't know what rock you've been living under, but you are every bit as wonderful as Jungkook, and you know that. Namjoon. You write about self-love, you write about self-acceptance, and now you're sitting here telling me you're not worthy? Of a boy?" Yoongi laughed, humourless. Namjoon coloured at how accurately he'd pinned him. "Fuck out of here. Seriously, Joon. You like him, and honestly according to Taehyung, Jimin, Seokjin, Hoseok, the world and everyone, there's a serious bloody chance he likes you too."

Namjoon gulped. Why was Yoongi always right. It had been that way for almost eleven years– Yoongi could pin Namjoon in a moment and sort through his mind and unfuck it. Yoongi should have been a goddamn therapist, Namjoon could swear that man would have revolutionised psychology. Or maybe, Yoongi just knew him, which was a far more likely option.

Namjoon groaned, throwing his head back as he slumped into the chair. "Why do you always have to be right?"

"I'm your Hyung," Yoongi said simply. "It's my job to be right."

Well. That was helpful.

"Now, don't you need clothes? What time are you going, anyway?" Yoongi said after a while.

Damn, Namjoon chuckled wryly. Yoongi didn't even give him a chance to have an existential crisis before moving onto the next thing.

"Like..." Namjoon trailed off, bringing his phone out and turning on the screen to check the time, and felt his throat sink to his stomach. Or maybe it was the other way around– he did kind of feel like he was going to vomit. Maybe his stomach had risen to his throat. "In an hour?"

Yoongi looked at him once more, and Namjoon got the feeling that Yoongi may have actually smacked him. "Well, Joon-ah," Yoongi said, standing up. "Looks like we've got to get you dolled up in fifteen minutes. Isn't it so good you never argue with Hyung?"

Namjoon opened his mouth to do exactly that, argue, when Yoongi shot him a look that told him he was probably better off shutting up.

~

Namjoon tugged uncomfortably at the leather chord that was attached to his hair. Shifting his weight from side to side. He smiled at a customer, handing them their drink, eyes darting to the door, waiting to hear the bells that would signal Jungkook. According to Yoongi, who Jimin had texted (Namjoon was not going to ask), they were almost there. Seokjin and Hoseok were at home with the baby, which was fair, although Hoseok did bemoan the opportunity to witness Namjoon in his 'hot daddy bartender' role, whatever the fuck that meant.

Namjoon sighed. Why was he even bothered. He knew what Yoongi said, but jesus, wasn't this a little ridiculous? Sure, Namjoon dressed like he was coming out of an old film from the 80s almost religiously, but that was for work, and it was nowhere near as dressy as what he was wearing right then.

Yoongi had pulled out a greyish-blue suit from somewhere in his closet, and a silk shirt, completing the outfit with a satin scarf that Namjoon had looked at for a moment and scoffed, before Yoongi shoved it towards him with a roll of his eyes and said, "Just wear it."

Namjoon was in no position to be choosy.

He wondered though– would Jungkook like it? Would he think it was too much? Namjoon thought it was too much– sure, he blended in with his patrons and with Yoongi and Taehyung, but that was different! This was... Different.

God, Namjoon hated this feeling. He absolutely hated it.

Namjoon's eyes darted to the door again. In the corner, a couple played pool, and Namjoon watched as the girl wrapped her arms around the other to show her how to shoot. Romantic. It was really, really romantic.

Namjoon's eyes darted down to the counter. He wondered if maybe he should text Jungkook, ask when he'd get there, just for, you know, clarification, and then immediately frowned, because he'd literally just admitted to himself (and Yoongi) like an hour ago that he was into Jungkook and he was already being weird about him? Namjoon was appalled at himself, he truly, truly was.

His attention was on the group in the corner playing darts, the soft boom of the music they'd cued up making the building vibrate only a little when Namjoon heard it– the bells. His eyes sped to the door and– oh god. Namjoon felt his stomach in his throat again. Oh god, he was going to die.

Jungkook always looked good– it was a fact of life at that point, something that wasn't even debatable. And Jungkook's good looks always made Namjoon feel a little loopy. But – Namjoon gulped, tugging at his silk scarf – this was... This was deadly.

Jungkook was also wearing a suit, a black one, hair swept over his eyes in a way that made Namjoon pray for a scrunchie or a hairclip to make its way out of his pocket to pin it back. Around his waist, a black leather belt cinched in his waist and the absolute clincher, the reason Namjoon felt like he was about to die and be reborn in that one single moment– a collar around his neck, made of chain and leather, a heavy metal clip holding it together at his throat. Namjoon gulped. Jungkook looked dangerous. Namjoon didn't know what to do with himself.

A broad, grin stretched over Jungkook's face as his eyes came to rest on Namjoon, and he began weaving between the crowd, towards Namjoon. He was vaguely aware that Jimin had filtered into the bar behind Jungkook, making a b-line to where Yoongi and Taehyung were engaged in a very sprightly conversation at the other end of the bar. Namjoon's eyes just followed Jungkook.

It was a strange thing, he thought, being so painfully aware of how you felt about another person. How their every movement great or small sent echoes through your entire being, whether you liked it or not. Namjoon felt like he'd just been rocked by an earthquake. He looked down, quickly, to check that he was still standing, and braced his hands against the counter of the bar as he heard Jungkook's footsteps getting closer.

"Hyung!" Jungkook's voice was happy, and Namjoon simply couldn't not look. He couldn't not give his eyes the pleasure of taking in the smile he knew accompanied that tone of voice. Namjoon's eyes rose to Jungkook's.

Even though Jungkook's clothes screamed danger, his smile screamed home, and Namjoon– Namjoon wanted both, damn him. He fought against a frown, not wanting Jungkook to think he was frowning at him. He would never. He was frowning at his own damn stupid brain and its inability to process.

"Hi, Kook-ah," he grinned softly. "What can I get you?"

Jungkook's eyelashes fluttered as he eyed Namjoon a little suspiciously. "Don't you want to choose?"

"You trust me that much?" Namjoon tilted his head.

Jungkook's smile grew impossibly larger as he nodded, tilting his head in return. "I do."

Namjoon breathed in deeply, willing his heart to calm the fuck down, before turning and rummaging under the bar for something he knew Jungkook would like. Jungkook liked sweet things, he knew. Jungkook liked beer. Beer did seem a little lacklustre for the occasion, although Namjoon didn't quite understand what his brain thought the occasion was.

His head peeked up above the bar to see Jungkook grinning down at him, pleased.

"How about a milkshake?" Namjoon asked.

Sure, it wasn't alcoholic, but something told Namjoon that Jungkook wouldn't mind.

"Absolutely perfect."

Namjoon turned to head off to the kitchen, confident that Taehyung would be able to handle any customers that needed something in the time he was gone.

In the kitchen, Namjoon took time to breathe before going onto the task of making Jungkook's milkshake. Wrinkling his nose at the smell of the mint chocolate chip ice cream that he pulled out of the freezer, Namjoon sighed. He'd heard Yoongi earlier, and technically Yoongi was right, but he simply couldn't find it in himself to believe him. Jungkook was just–

Namjoon shook his head. Whatever. He was going to make Jungkook a milkshake and he was going to hang out with his friend and he was going to attempt to not worry about what the other man thought of him, because Jungkook was his friend! And that's all he was, no matter how much Namjoon liked him. Loved him.

The thought hurt.

Letting the sound of the blender fill his thoughts, Namjoon's mind drifted to somewhere else, where he could maybe imagine something– imagine playing pool like those girls earlier, imagine popping a cherry into Jungkook's mouth like Jimin had done to Yoongi a few days before. Imagine, for a brief moment, what it would be like if they–

The blender shut off. Namjoon decanted the milkshake into a glass, crumbling a chocolate biscuit on top.

Jungkook's smile when he walked out with the green drink was so, so worth it.

It was something about the air, the way it crackled and buzzed around him and Jungkook. The way the energy flowed, and sizzled. Jungkook took a sip of his milkshake and smiled at Namjoon, his lashes catching the light. Namjoon couldn't help but feel like something was about to happen.

"So," he said, trying desperately to calm his racing pulse. "What do you think?"

"Taehyung-hyung was right," Jungkook whispered. "It is like a completely different place at night, and a completely different place when you're here as well."

What was Namjoon supposed to say to that? He chuckled, the sound coming stilted out of his mouth. "You look– I mean, Kook, you always look amazing ah ha."

Jungkook eyed Namjoon, as if he had said something odd. God, Namjoon probably did, didn't he. Namjoon was always saying something odd, it was the curse of liking someone, he guessed.

"Hyung, is everything okay?" Jungkook peered at him. "You sound a little off."

"I'm fine, Kook," Namjoon shook his head. He leaned his elbows on the counter. Jungkook's eyes flitted to his hair, the leather chord which dangled into his eyes because Namjoon couldn't do a single thing without something malfunctioning. "Just... Have a lot of thoughts in my head."

Jungkook smiled softly, a look of understanding washing over his face. "I get it, Hyung." he shook his head for a moment, continuing. "Trust me, I get it. Too many thoughts and too little skull space, and everything feels like it's in the middle of a battle royale to make its way out."

Namjoon nodded. "Sometimes your brain is your worst enemy."

"Unfortunately," Jungkook snorted, taking another sip of his milkshake. Namjoon's eyes zeroed in on his cheeks hollowing around the straw, a blush painting his own cheeks at the thoughts that flashed through his mind. He gulped. Jungkook swallowed. Namjoon cleared his throat, and shot his eyes to the dart board, the pool table, anywhere, really.

At the sound, Jungkook looked up, taking one look at Namjoon, turning to follow his gaze towards the pool table. "Do you want to play?"

"Yes!" Namjoon said, grateful for the distraction.

"Wanna make a bet?"

Namjoon chuckled, Jungkook's evident desire to win at all things an ever-present companion in their interactions. "I don't know," his voice was easy. "Hasn't turned out too well for you this far, has it?"

"It's different this time!" Jungkook pouted. He blinked up at Namjoon, galaxies at full force. "Please, Hyung, my pride can't bear it!"

"Your pride needs to maybe stop putting itself in situations where it can be hurt."

At Namjoon's words, Jungkook huffed, crossing his arms the way a toddler would, a comical sight considering Jungkook was extremely un-toddler like. Namjoon giggled.

"You know, Hyung, you still haven't called in your favours," Jungkook pointed out. "Which means I should at least get a chance to turn things in my favour."

"I haven't really found something worthy of using a favour on," Namjoon pointed out. "And that's what you said last time."

"This is different though, I'm very good at pool."

Namjoon eyed Jungkook dubiously. That's what the younger said about ice-skating, and that had not gone in Jungkook's favour. Seeing the hesitation in his eyes, Jungkook pursed his lips, then pouted. "Hyung, I'm serious. I'm actually good at pool. Like, I could actually beat you. I'm not just saying that to impress you, I swear."

"Why you would need to impress me, I do not know," Namjoon shook his head. "I'm already very much impressed by you, and you know that."

Jungkook let out a frustrated sound, almost enough to distract from the pink on his cheeks. "Sure, great, wonderful let us bet on it."

Namjoon's laugh this time was of surprise. Jungkook really wanted it to be competitive. Namjoon eyed the pool table once more, empty of the two girls who'd been there. Namjoon supposed it couldn't hurt– sure, his pride would definitely take a hit, but Namjoon could handle it. It was pool. He'd be fine.

He nodded.

"Excellent!" Jungkook clapped his hands, shoving his milkshake to the side and leaning over the counter a little to grab Namjoon's hand, pulling him around the bar to where he was. "Let's get it!"

~

Namjoon was not fine. As he made another (frankly horrendous) shot with his cue, Jungkook stifled a giggle at his side. Namjoon shot a glare up to where Jungkook was leaning behind him. Little shit. He looked so smug. Why did he have to look so smug? More importantly, how did Jungkook manage to make looking smug look hot? Namjoon narrowed his eyes, before turning back to the balls, leaning down further. If he could just–

"Nope!" Jungkook's voice startled Namjoon. He jolted up, whacking his own face with the pool cue.

"Shit, Hyung, are you okay?" Jungkook's hands were on his arms in an instant, turning Namjoon towards him so he could inspect the damage.

Namjoon blinked his eyes a few times, hard, shaking his head for a moment before pushing out a sigh. "Yeah, I just– was focusing. You startled me."

"Oh, I'm sorry," a hand came up to brush at Namjoon's forehead. "I didn't mean to."

The remorse in Jungkook's voice made Namjoon's brows furrow. "Hey, it's okay! Seriously," Namjoon chuckled, brushing his own hand against his forehead, a small jolt running through his entire body as it brushed against Jungkook's. "I know you didn't, and besides– I've suffered knocks a lot more serious than some silly old pool cue. I promise."

Jungkook nodded slowly. Namjoon was aware, so aware of how close they were, Jungkook's hand on his bicep, on his forehead, his hand barely touching Jungkook's. He hesitated to breathe, and when he did, it came out shallow, shuddering. Namjoon swallowed. Cleared his throat.

Like the breaking of a trance, Jungkook's hands fell from Namjoon's person in an instant, cheeks pink pink pink as he stepped back, a tense smile on his face.

"Yeah, I just– I'm sorry, you're doing that really wrong. Like really wrong. Sorry, Joon-hyung, I can't let you besmirch the art of pool like that."

"It's a ball and a stick!" Namjoon all but shouted. "How is it an art!"

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. "Someone is frustrated." Namjoon let out a little huff and Jungkook chuckled. "Here, let me help you, okay? Since you clearly don't have a chance of beating me this time."

Namjoon rolled his eyes at the cockiness weaving through his voice. Absolutely ridiculous. This was absolutely ridiculous. Still, he nodded.

"Can I–" Jungkook gestured to his cue a little stilted. "I mean. It's just better if I guide you."

Namjoon blinked. "From–"

"Like this," Jungkook took his hand, the hand holding the cue, and turned him around, so that Jungkook's palm rested over the back of his.

Namjoon prayed for even breath.

"Look," Jungkook led Namjoon forward. "You're stripes, right?"

Namjoon grumbled an affirmative. Jungkook continued. "Firstly, you're holding the cue wrong. You're just– you're supposed to make an a-shape with your thumb, and index" he breathed. "Can I–"

"Sure," Namjoon took a deep breath. "Sure, go ahead, I'm at your mercy and all that jazz. Ha."

If Jungkook thought the (incredibly awkward, incredibly honk-like) laugh Namjoon let out was odd, he didn't let on as he slowly moved his body behind Namjoon's and pressed close. Namjoon was not shaking. Namjoon was just... Having a moment. An incredibly long moment, with Jungkook's body pressing into the back of his and oh jesus god in heaven Namjoon could feel the man's whole entire schlong, Namjoon was literally going to pass out. No. He forced oxygen into his lungs. He was not going to pass out. He was going to take his lesson from Jungkook like a normal, sane person who wasn't thinking about the way Jungkook's penis nestled against his thigh.

"You need to like," Jungkook nudged him a bit. "You need to bend over. Like you were before–"

If Jungkook said anything after that, Namjoon didn't hear him. His brain was a cesspool of bend over and Jungkook and Jungkook's cock which was very much not soft, what the fuck man, how was Namjoon supposed to stay sane with his half -hard cock like right there, so close to Namjoon's ass. Namjoon wondered if this was divine punishment. It probably was. Namjoon had a lot of sins to pay for, of that he was sure. Primarily– horny sins. Evidently. It was fine– it wasn't like Jungkook could somehow sense that Namjoon was getting hard. Because that would truly be a disaster– Jungkook being hard because he was pressed up against someone? That was fair, understandable. Namjoon being hard because his friend's dick was basically touching his thigh? Somewhat less fair and understandable. Namjoon would never be able to live it down.

Namjoon just– he'd spent so long, like, not thinking about Jungkook that way? Actively making his brain just not think about it, and now that he'd (been forced into admitting) admitted it, it was like his brain was going haywire, finally free from whatever horny jail he'd shoved it in. Namjoon was not pleased, god, he was supposed to be listening. Vaguely, Namjoon was aware of Jungkook murmuring near his ear, instructions, moving his hands or arms where he needed them to be, but all Namjoon could focus on was how utterly surrounded by Jungkook he was. Jungkook's low voice. His body. His soap, the soap Namjoon knew he loved using, everywhere, tugging at Namjoon's senses. Namjoon was going to go insane.

"Are you even listening?" Jungkook laughed, the breath dusting against Namjoon's neck.

Namjoon couldn't do this. He couldn't deal with this and remain sane. He felt like he was going to explode. Jungkook was going to kill him. He swallowed.

"Honestly," he wiggled a little, causing Jungkook to step back. Somehow Namjoon felt like the oxygen had been pulled from his lungs. He shook his head. "Not really– I think it's lost on me, unfortunately."

He turned around to Jungkook, wrapping his suit jacket around himself securely, grateful that its oversized form managed to come down to below his hips, hiding his traitor of a penis that was just having an absolute ball there in his trousers. Jungkook looked a little distracted, his eyes a little all over the place, his hands fidgeting with the tie of his belt. A little red. Namjoon supposed it was warm in the bar.

Jungkook chuckled, shaking his head, leaning back, except– there was nothing for him to lean on. He stumbled, before righting himself, Namjoon's hands coming out to steady him before he really knew what he was doing.

"You good?"

"Fine," Jungkook laughed, a little breathless. "Just– damn you guys must pay a fortune in heating, it's really warm."

Namjoon hummed, nodding. "Not really, but there are lots of people here, so it makes sense that it's a bit stuffy. Do you," he screwed up his face in thought. "Did you want to go outside? Or, to the kitchen? It should be a little less," he glanced at the people around them. "Crowded."

Jungkook nodded.

Namjoon's brain was moving at a million and one kilometres at once in all different directions, the world's fastest and most chaotic train, because Namjoon didn't have a driver's license, even in his head. He weaved through the throngs, aware of Jungkook's body following after him to the kitchen, down the corridor. The kitchen was empty– it was far too late for them to be serving food. Namjoon slipped in.

Jungkook followed him, shutting the door behind him, and together they breathed, almost a sigh of relief as they found escape from the pressing heat of all the bodies.

"Hyung, do I–" Jungkook broke off, his mouth twisting to the side. He chewed on his lip, briefly, before nodding to himself. "Do I get my favour now?"

Namjoon blinked. Laughed. "Kook-ah, what could you possibly want with me? I told you– I'm not a rich man."

"You feed me," Jungkook pointed out.

"You want food?"

The laugh Jungkook let out echoed off the appliances, loud enough that that Namjoon was sure the other patrons could hear and got to be blessed by that sound. God, Namjoon was sappy.

"No, Hyung, I don't want food, you feed me anyway," Jungkook's leg kicked up a little. "I just– there's a lot I want with you."

What did that even mean? Namjoon was confused, his mind moving one way and then the next. What did Jungkook mean when he said he wanted a lit of things with Namjoon? He was talking friendship. He was surely talking friendship– Jungkook had to be talking friendship. Yoongi's voice echoed in the back of Namjoon's mind black swan, unexpected, can't predict it because its unpredictable, why did Namjoon try and predict the unpredictable, why did Namjoon think he could control the unpredictable?

Namjoon blinked up to Jungkook's eyes and oh– Namjoon's heart ran off somewhere towards the Sahara desert. Jungkook didn't really look like he meant friendship.

"Like what," Namjoon breathed. His hands scrambled for purchase behind him on the counter, finding solidity in the cool metal, except Namjoon still felt like he was on the verge of drowning, falling, floating.

Jungkook's lips tensed up and he looked almost frustrated– what did he have to be frustrated about? Namjoon was the one who should have been frustrated, he felt like he'd just run fifteen kilometres in ten minutes and that was literally not possible, but Namjoon's beating heart felt like it was.

"Hyung, just," Jungkook shut his eyes, tight, running a rough hand over his face. "How do I have to say this? What do I have to say to make you get it, Namjoon-hyung?"

"Get what?" Namjoon threw his hands up. Honestly, what in god's name was Jungkook even talking about, really now. He'd not even said what he wanted. Namjoon had the sinking feeling that they'd strayed far, far away from that conversation. "Jungkook, we were talking about a favour and now I'm a little bit confused, if I'm being perfectly honest."

Jungkook let out a lour argh, breathing deeply through his nose to calm himself. What was there to calm? Why did Jungkook look like he was having a crisis, damn it, Namjoon was the crisis-haver in this bloody situation! Why was Jungkook having a crisis?

Namjoon blinked at him. Cleared his throat. "So?"

"Hyung," Namjoon truly felt as if he was missing something as Jungkook fixed him with those eyes of his, wide and pleading and god, sparkling, because Jungkook's eyes were always sparkling and Namjoon was half mad from it. "You know when you want to say something, but you don't know how to say it? So you give a million hints, drop a million crumbs, and by some stroke of incredibly bad luck, you still have to say it to get your point across?"

Namjoon had no idea what Jungkook was saying. He nodded anyway. Jungkook continued. "You know how," he took a deep breath and moved towards Namjoon. The kitchen wasn't big– just enough for Taehyung and his work surfaces and Jungkook was there, tips of his boots touching Namjoon's in an instant. "When you want to say something but you don't want it to sound like too much, so you try and phrase it in all these different ways, and your point never gets across, so you just have to say it? You know how sometimes you just have to say things, and get them out there?"

Namjoon nodded, more firmly this time. Jungkook looked really into what he was saying, his brows furrowed into a little V of concentration as he parsed through words, pasting them together to get his point across. What point was Jungkook trying to get across?

"Jungkook-ah, I– what does this have to do with me?"

Jungkook let out a soft, humourless laugh. "Oh, Hyung," he looked at Namjoon, long, longing. "You have no idea."

Namjoon tilted his head, feeling like each movement had meaning, every beat of his heart forming one single purpose.

"Hyung, about my favour," Jungkook fixed Namjoon with his gaze. "I don't suppose you'd like to kiss me?"

Namjoon blinked. Surely he'd heard wrong, surely– surely his brain wasn't taking the words in properly, piecing them together the way they were supposed to. Jungkook bit down on his lip, swallowing, and Namjoon got the distinct impression that he was nervous. Oh god, Jungkook was nervous. Jungkook was nervous about... Kissing Namjoon? Asking to kiss Namjoon? What the fuck was going on?

When Namjoon said nothing, Jungkook's face fell, a small sigh leaving his mouth as he stepped back. His lips tilted up, a crooked little thing. "I don't suppose you could forget I asked that? I'm sorry, I–"

"No!" Namjoon blurted, hand shooting out to close around Jungkook's arm, stopping him from moving any further away. "No, Kook, I– yes? I'll kiss you? What the fuck?"

Jungkook eyed Namjoon wearily. "You don't have to, I don't want you to feel obliged or forced or anything I just– I guess I read things wrong, I'm sorry, Hyung, I'll go."

"No, don't go! Why do you want to go?" Namjoon's voice was pleading, his grip tightening a little, not enough to hurt Jungkook but enough to say please don't leave me, please stay. "Why would you be forcing me? What things were you reading, Jungkook, what is going on."

"I thought," Jungkook let out a frustrated sound from the back of his throat. "I thought you liked me. I thought you felt the way I did, I thought I could– that you wanted to kiss me–"

"But I do!" Namjoon surprised himself with the way those words flew out of his mouth. Jungkook looked like they'd hit him square in the chest, a missile shot from a hundred kilometres away. "I do want to kiss you, I like you, Kook-ah, like really like you, I– how do you feel?"

Jungkook blinked, slow. "How do I feel? Hyung, I've practically given you a three-hundred page essay with accompanying powerpoint on how I feel, how do you think I feel?" Namjoon just blinked back at him. Jungkook sighed. "I like you? How is that even a question? I literally asked you if you would kiss me, Hyung, I mean really."

Namjoon flushed. Well, when Jungkook put it like that, sure, maybe he was being a little dense. He cleared his throat. "So. You like me." At Jungkook's nod, Namjoon continued. "And I like you. And you want to kiss me."

"Yes?" Jungkook looked at Namjoon like he'd grown three heads. "I do? Hyung, you're making me confused now– are you going to kiss me or?"

"Yes!" Namjoon's finger's tightened around Jungkook's bicep a little, tugging him closer and oh god, Jungkook just went with the movement, stumbling towards Namjoon. "Yes," he said, softer. "I'll kiss you."

Namjoon said his last words like a prayer, sending out every hope he had out into the universe that he would not fuck this up because god, Jungkook was asking Namjoon to kiss him and Namjoon wanted wanted wanted like his next breath or something equally as dramatic and embarrassing and Namjoon feared that this would quite literally be the moment that could top his entire life because how could anything come close to Jungkook so close to him in his arms leaning in, eyelashes fluttering shut and waiting for Namjoon to kiss him?

Jungkook's lips were, in fact, as soft and as sweet as the man himself, Namjoon discovered as he brought his mouth to Jungkook, breathing a sigh at the contact. Jungkook's hand came up around his waist to grip at his suit, using the jacket as purchase to bring himself closer, closer. Namjoon discovered that Jungkook was greedy, at least where kisses were concerned.

Namjoon tried to kiss at Jungkook's lips, one by one, but Jungkook seemed to have different plans, pushing up into the kiss like he had something to prove, and Namjoon found himself completely at his mercy, completely under his spell. His own hands fell from Jungkook's arms and rested on his hips and god, it felt good, Jungkook's skin under all those layers calling to Namjoon's fingers. Namjoon wrenched himself from the kiss, a shuddering breath wracking through him.

Jungkook's lips came to his jaw. "Again?"

"Again?" Namjoon breathed, tilting his head, and everything just felt so– like Jungkook, so good, so comfortable, so new, so everything, a million things at once.

Jungkook hummed once, before moving back to Namjoon's mouth, this time lapping at his lips, and Namjoon let himself melt into the kiss, letting Jungkook do what he clearly, evidently was having such a great time doing, and found himself feeling guilty– guilty for letting himself feel. Worried that he wasn't what Jungkook wanted or what he expected or–

"What's wrong?" Jungkook murmured against his lips, "Hyung, you're distracted, is there something wrong, am I doing something wrong?"

"No," Namjoon shook his head, sighing. "No, I'm just– I'm scared it's not–"

"It's not?"

"Not good? I'm not good? Like– I feel like I'm not doing enough, you know, you're making me feel all these good things and I'm just here. Like–"

"Hyung, no offence," Jungkook whispered, his words hosting against Namjoon's mouth. "But I don't really think it's fair that you tell me how I feel. Because you're making me feel all those good things too, you really are. Every flutter, every butterfly, every beat– I feel it too. You're more than good enough, and I know it's hard, but just– please know that? At least, know I think so? I like the way you kiss me, I like the way you let me kiss you, I like–" Jungkook broke off, sighing a little. "I just like you, okay? I like everything about you, Namjoon-hyung. Please don't think I don't."

Namjoon felt his heart beat, once, twice, in his chest, and an ugly pit began forming in his stomach, because Jungkook was right, Namjoon was telling him how he was feeling and it wasn't fair, and Namjoon shouldn't have been doing that, not when Jungkook was looking at him, hair mussed and eyes dark and looking kissed into oblivion and–

No. Namjoon was not going to do that. He was going to enjoy his moment and kiss Jungkook and he was going to not worry about whether or not he was doing it right because Namjoon was a grown man! He knew how to kiss people! And Jungkook deserved him believing that Jungkook liked how he kissed. Namjoon nodded.

That didn't mean that he didn't pull Jungkook a little closer when he brought their lips together for a third time, didn't press a little deeper, delving into Jungkook's mouth and drinking up the gasp the other man let out as Namjoon grinned, slowing his movements, the slick sound of their lips parting sending a shudder through his body. Namjoon was painfully aware of the turn things had taken as Jungkook moaned into his mouth, his cock straining against where Jungkook's thigh, Jungkook's hands pulling at his suit jacket in search of something and–

Namjoon and Jungkook jumped at the sound of a clatter ringing through the kitchen, chests heaving as they jumped apart. Oh god. Namjoon's cheeks turned pink and a quick glance at Jungkook showed the other man in a similar state.

"Shit!" Taehyung cursed, rapidly picking up the tray he'd evidently dropped and avoiding their gazes studiously. "God, I'm so sorry, I just– it's closing time, you know?"

Namjoon furrowed his brows. "It is?" His voice creaked as he spoke, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Uh, it is? Don't we usually close at eight?"

Taehyung's teeth filled his mouth in a box, but not a smile, as he squinted. "Well, I mean– look, Yoongi-hyung and Min and me, we kind of wanted to split and it didn't look like you were going to be out there any time soon, and it wasn't like I was going to leave Sooyoung to do all the heavy lifting, so I kind of told her she could go home early and kicked everyone out? Maybe?"

"Uh," Namjoon blinked in disbelief. "Okay? You– so you're closing up?"

"I was kind of hoping you could finish it up? You know, considering you all but disappeared for the last bit of the evening?"

Namjoon breathed evenly through his nose. "Fine," he croaked, and shook his head. "Go home, Taehyung-ah, Hyung'll take care of it, okay?"

Taehyung smiled then, wide and boxy, and nodded, placing the tray down and zooming out of the kitchen, no doubt to collect Yoongi and Jimin and spirit them away to his apartment. Looked like somehow they'd all figured out their shit. Huh.

"I can help you?" Jungkook's voice filtered softly into Namjoon's ears. "You know. If you want."

Namjoon turned to him. "You don't have to do that, Kook-ah, I can just–"

Jungkook placed a hand on his arm as if to stop his words in their tracks. "Hey. I know I don't, but I want to, Joon-hyung, I– I do want to spend time with you, you know?"

Namjoon made to say something, but thought better of it, instead letting a smile stretch his face and nodding, once, pursing his lips in a grin.

~

It was an odd thing, knowing what you wanted (or who) and getting it. It made you want more, crave it, and Namjoon found himself going absolutely insane with want as he swept the floors and wiped down the counters and watched as Jungkook carried the last of the glasses to the kitchen to wash them, because goddamn, Namjoon would literally rather be doing a million other things (to Jungkook, with Jungkook) than cleaning. And from the long, lingering looks Jungkook would shoot him when he filtered into the front of the bar for more glasses, he was of the same mind. But they had to.

After the last stack of wons was placed into the safe Namjoon kept at the very back of the storeroom, he met Jungkook in the front room and smiled, shy suddenly, as if he didn't know what to do with himself, as if he was back at the beginning of the night and so so unsure.

Jungkook's eyes darted towards the pool table, and he blushed, and curiosity stirred in Namjoon's chest.

"What's that look for?" He prompted, nodding towards the pool table. God, Namjoon had many thoughts about the pool table himself, what was Jungkook thinking–

"You really want to know?" Jungkook tugged on the collar around his neck, nervous, and Namjoon's eyes drew toward it as if by gravity, because god, it really wasn't necessary, that thing, covering the smooth expanse of Jungkook's skin, locking him in, making Namjoon's mind literally want to explode–

Namjoon nodded.

"I–" Jungkook coloured a little. "I just– when you needed help, all sorts of thoughts sort of made their way into my mind, and I just– and I know maybe you think I'm moving too fast and that's fine if you say no and–"

Whew, Namjoon recognised that run-on speech. He chuckled, desperately trying to calm the way the little voice in his head was positively levitating. Jungkook looked like he was having a Moment, and Namjoon, someone who was painfully familiar with those Moments felt it would only be right if he did everything in his power to spare the other man from the sheer nightmare of trying to talk your way into, out of, and around something at once.

"Kook-ah, come here," Namjoon didn't recognise the low timbre of his voice as he reached out a hand to Jungkook and Jungkook floated towards him, letting Namjoon's palm come to rest on the small of his back. "I just– you don't have to talk yourself out of wanting something because you're scared I'll think it's too fast. If it's too much, I'll tell you, okay?" Namjoon raised his eyebrows, questioningly. "Just like I'd hope you'd tell me if there was ever anything I did that maybe felt like I was pushing you or violating your boundaries. Okay?"

"Okay," Jungkook nodded, small, imperceptible really, except Namjoon was so close that he swore he could see the pulse in Jungkook's throat.

"Do you want to–" "I don't suppose we could–" Namjoon and Jungkook laughed as their words got lost in each others, each one stumbling, heads thrown back.

Namjoon shook his head. "You go first."

"I–" Jungkook looked down. Breathed. "So, about the pool table and um– well, sex," Namjoon's dick ascended. That's all there was too it, really, well, and he also choked. On air. Coughed a little. At Jungkook's concerned noise, Namjoon waved him off and shook his head, telling him to continue. Jungkook looked dubious, but did as he was told. "I– would it be terribly tacky for me to ask if maybe you could pleasefuckmeonthepooltable."

Now. Namjoon knew there was no way his ears could have misheard that, if only because there was really no conceivable combination of words that would sound like "fuck me on the pool table", in that order. And what was Namjoon supposed to do? Say no?

"I appreciate you asking, Kook-ah," Namjoon grinned, a sappy little thing, far too gooey for a bar and a pool table and a discussion about sex. "And my answer is a very enthusiastic yes, especially since we just wiped that thing down so it's clean and there's no sweat."

"I just think it's only fair," Jungkook smirked, cocking his head as he walked backwards, as if he somehow knew where the table was, Namjoon following entranced. "You know– I bend you over the pool table, you bend me over the pool table."

Namjoon chuckled. "Seems legit." He bent to kiss Jungkook once more, and then paused, a little horrified. "Shit, Kook, I didn't even think– I don't have anything, I–"

Jungkook hummed, a smile spilling onto his face. "I do? I mean, not that I was expecting anything, but," he curled his hand into Namjoon's jacket. "I just–"

"I know, Kook-ah," Namjoon whispered, bending his neck, feeling Jungkook's knees give a little against the back of the table, and god, it was something else, kissing Jungkook like that, knowing that Jungkook wanted him, wanted him in him. Namjoon groaned, a heavy breath leaving his lips as Jungkook's hips kicked up into his, clearly still worked up from earlier. "A little edgy, huh?"

"Hyung, don't tease me," Jungkook murmured against Namjoon's mouth, planting a soft, wet little kiss on his top lip. "It isn't nice."

Namjoon hummed a muted chuckle, and tugged at Jungkook's belt. "How about we get this off, huh?"

"As long as you take yours off too," Jungkook tugged at his suit jacket. "I've been wanting this thing off all day."

"Well, it's not like I can argue with that," Namjoon shrugged his jacket off, and watched as Jungkook slipped his belt off and then his black jacket and his shirt was– even though the leopard print fabric was solid, it was practically indecent, draping over Jungkook's frame like that, the hard bulbs of his nipples pebbling against the soft material. Namjoon barely registered the sound of the jacket landing somewhere on the floor, wherever really– Namjoon would deal with that later. After.

Namjoon found himself needing to touch Jungkook, needing to just check if he was real, feel his skin under his fingers for a moment just to be absolutely certain. Also, if Namjoon was being perfectly honest with himself, he really wanted to run his hands across the planes of Jungkook's abs, his waist, his back, all those perfect muscles and perfect skin just there for him to play with. He swallowed, eying Jungkook's slightly ruffled appearance. Namjoon wondered just how rumpled he could have Jungkook looking by the time he was done with him.

"Come here," Jungkook whispered, making grabby hands at Namjoon. Namjoon obeyed, and with delight Jungkook slipped his hands under the tails of Namjoon's shirt, running them up around his hips, gripping at the skin of his waist.

Namjoon found himself getting lost a little in Jungkook's mouth, his body, the little sighs he let out when Namjoon finally finally slipped his own hands up his shirt and felt up the expanses of his skin. The way Jungkook utterly overwhelmed him and let himself utterly overwhelm Namjoon, hips stuttering against each other and breath pushing harshly from their chests.

At one particularly slow, languid grind of his hips, Jungkook hissed, breaking from the kiss with a whimper. "Hyung, I just– I'm sorry, I'm going to come, can you just–" he breathed harshly through his nose. "Condom, lube– I've got packets in my pocket, let me just," he slipped his hand off of Namjoon's person and into the pocket, emerging moments later with a few triumphant packets in his hand. He pressed them into Namjoon's own. "Please, can you just..."

"Can I what?"

Jungkook scrunched up his nose, a frustrated whine echoing high off the ceiling. "Fuck me. Please, can you just fuck me, Hyung."

"You ask so nicely, Kook-ah," Namjoon pecked his cheek, and while he was there, murmured. "Of course I'll fuck you, my love."

Before he could let himself think, before his brain could get in the way, really, Namjoon gently nudged Jungkook around, his grip firm around his waist.

"This fine?" Namjoon hushed. Jungkook nodded, wiggling a little. "I'm gonna take off your trousers now, okay?"

"Please and thank you," Jungkook giggled. "You don't have to be so gentle with me, I'm not going to break."

"I'll keep that in mind," Namjoon said wryly, listening to the snap of Jungkook's belt as he loosened it, palming against his cock for a moment just to hear the long, drawn-out groan that escaped from Jungkook's throat.

Jungkook's pants, for all their pockets, were surprisingly easy to get off, a tug and a wiggle over Jungkook's incredibly pert butt, and there they were, on the floor, being kicked off and Jungkook's ass filled up Namjoon's entire brain, because god, how could one person have such a genuinely nice butt? Namjoon wanted to– god, he knew he sounded literally insane, what the fuck– he wanted to bite it, just spend an entire day worshipping Jungkook's bottom and–

The shadow of Jungkook's cock between his legs, hanging long and heavy, brought Namjoon to a pause, his breath catching in his throat. Namjoon brought his hand around automatically, craving the feeling of Jungkook's length in his hand. Jungkook groaned as he thumbed at the head, wetting his fingers with pre-come before lightly tugging at his length, the sound of the dry slide ringing through Namjoon's ears.

"Namjoon-hyung," Jungkook ground. "Can you not tease me?"

"But you're so fun to tease," Namjoon gave Jungkook's dick one last squeeze, letting go to tear open a packet of lube, coating his one hand, and unzipping his trousers, ever-grateful that he didn't wear underwear that evening. At the sound of his own pants shucking off, Jungkook shuddered in anticipation, and Namjoon trailed a finger over his crack, once, just to see Jungkook shiver, before easing a wet finger into Jungkook's hole, a sharp moan breaking from Jungkook's throat as Namjoon pressed his index deeper, the wall of muscle tight around him, warm, and Namjoon bit his lip trying not to think too much about it, because if he did, he'd come right there, before he even got a chance to bend Jungkook over the pool table.

Speaking of bending... From where Namjoon was, he could tell it would be easier on both of them if Jungkook bent over, leaning his arms against the top of the table, and Namjoon proposed the idea with gentle words against Jungkook's ear, the other man immediately obliging, sticking his ass out and wiggling. God, and Jungkook complained about Namjoon teasing. Namjoon began fucking his finger in and out of Jungkook's hole, the clench of the muscle making his cock pulse where it hung heavy, and Namjoon eagerly supplied another finger, and another, at Jungkook's continuous whines of more, more, more, Hyung, please. Jungkook opened up beautifully for him, the stretch causing nothing but keens of pleasure from his throat as he pushed back against Namjoon's hand.

Biting down on his lip to distract himself, Namjoon slipped his fingers out, finally, patting Jungkook's bottom with wet fingers at his indignant cry, tearing open the condom packet a little clumsily before slowly rolling it up his cock, hissing at how sensitive he was already, how desperate he was to fuck into Jungkook. Namjoon tried to slow his breathing. It would be okay, he'd be okay– there was no need to rush, not with Jungkook, waiting so pretty, ass poked out and swaying lightly back and forth. Namjoon gripped at his sheathed length, coating it in the lube before ripping open another one of the small packets, wet fingers making it even more clumsy, just to make extra sure that everything went smoothly.

At Jungkook's huff, Namjoon chuckled. "Patience, Kook."

"Don't want to be patient," Jungkook ground out, glaring over his shoulder and oh, Namjoon wished he could take a picture of the glazed look in his eyes, his lips bitten and plump. "Want your cock."

"You've got it," Namjoon tilted his head as if psyching himself up. He moved towards Jungkook, bringing his tip to his hole and slowly, gently, pressed in, closing his eyes at the warmth of Jungkook all around him, trying so desperately to ignore the breathless little umph that Jungkook let out.

"Hyung," Jungkook breathed. "Please, more."

How Jungkook knew Namjoon had stopped halfway in, a little intimidated about hurting him, a little scared that he would be too much, Namjoon didn't know. Namjoon nodded to himself. Jungkook wanted more, he would get more, and god, the way Jungkook keened when Namjoon bottomed out, balls hitting the back of Jungkook's cheeks, was forever worth it. Namjoon's breath hitched.

His hips flush against Jungkook's, Namjoon brought his one hand around to grip at Jungkook's cock, not wanting him to go untouched, not when Jungkook deserved to come with everything around him. Jungkook jolted at the contact, then whimpered. "Hyung, please move, please," he clenched a little. "Fuck me, I can take it, please."

Namjoon found his brain going a little loopy at the sound of Jungkook begging him to fuck him, and like a his body had a mind of its own, his hips began moving, the squelch of his cock sliding in and out of Jungkook echoing through the bar, soft grunts and sighs mingling in. Jungkook was so warm around him, so wet, and Namjoon found himself losing focus rather quickly, starting to piston his hips, chasing the sounds of both his and Jungkook's pleasure, Jungkook's loud cries of more driving him on. His hand around Jungkook's length sped up, Namjoon's brain working overtime to do the two things at once, just wanting to make Jungkook come, hear more of those addictive high keens the other man let out when Namjoon hit a particularly sensitive spot or made a deep, grinding stroke.

Namjoon's breath became stuttered, his vision blurry as he fucked up into Jungkook's hole harder, harder, until Jungkook let out a piercing cry, come spilling all over Namjoon's hand and hole clenching hard against his cock, sending Namjoon over the edge, filling his vision with stars as he shuddered a groan.

Namjoon swallowed a breath as his chest heaved, Jungkook still clenching intermittently around him. He was overwhelmed, the sensitive nerves of his body on fire, his heart desperately beating to calm down. Slowly, his breath evened out, Jungkook's following suit.

Gently, Namjoon slipped himself out of Jungkook, careful not to disturb the other man. Jungkook hissed at the feeling of emptiness, Namjoon feeling one last, lingering jolt of over-sensitive pleasure zinging through his body.

He carefully peeled the condom off and tied it, wrinkling his nose a little at the come that had leaked out when he did, mingling with Jungkook's own on his hand, a sight that was... Not entirely unpleasant. Namjoon tilted his head. Maybe that was something to note for future.

After disposing of the condom, Namjoon returned to where Jungkook was, still braced on the pool table, muscles eased and languid, almost lounging against it with his bare ass swaying in the cool air.

At the sound of Namjoon returning, Jungkook turned to him, a grin stretching his mouth. Namjoon found himself, once more, oddly nervous. He cleared his throat. "How was that?"

Jungkook eyed Namjoon from his bare feet to his soft cock, and gave him a long, filthy stare. "Hyung," Jungkook gave him a look. "Do you even have to ask?"

"So you liked it?" Namjoon quirked a brow, and Jungkook laughed, long and loud, a little hoarse from minutes before.

"Oh, Hyung," Jungkook shook his head. "Yes, I liked it." he paused, eying Namjoon's cock once more. "Why don't you come here and I can show you just how much I liked it?"

Notes:

If you've read this far, thank you so so much, and I truly hope you enjoyed! This was an absolute pleasure to write. Any and all feedback – comments, kudos, yelling in my dms on twitter( @moonphorias) – is always welcome.