Chapter Text
The thing about people is that you never know who is going to be the next person to change your life. Who is going to walk by one day and tilt your entire world on its axis. Who is going to become so important to you that even with years of having lived without them, you can never again imagine life without their presence, their existence, the sheer knowing that they're there.
That's what makes life so wonderful, what makes every chance encounter and meeting so precious. Because anyone out there could become your entire world.
~
Namjoon was frowning at his cellphone when a call came through, the sound startling him into biting down onto his lip a little too hard, and he winced as he accepted the call, sucking the wound into his mouth.
"Hello?"
"Namjoon-ah," Hoseok's voice on the other end was frazzled, "Did you remember to pick up the wine order?"
"Huh?" Namjoon's eyes caught on someone entering the bar, "What wine order?"
A sigh. Namjoon could picture Hoseok's brows furrowing, his shoulders falling. "For the Callihan party? The American couple? They placed their custom party order two months ago?"
Namjoon blinked. He did not remember having to pick that up that day. He was sure the order was coming in next week and–
He cocked his head. The light in the little bar area was scarce, gentle, and he watched as it reflected off the metal of the earrings the person who'd just walked in. His eyes focused on the way the skin of the ear curved and the way the light bounced onto the person's neck, illuminating smooth skin. Namjoon watched as the skin moved as the person swallowed, head turning a little to look at the prints on the far end of the wall.
"Joon-ah," Hoseok's voice was loud through the phone speaker, "Namjoon-ah, are you there? Can you hear me?"
Namjoon moved his eyes from the person's skin to the flat wooden surface of the bar in front of him. His eyes traced the veins of the wood. "Can you repeat yourself?"
"I said, can you go pick it up now? I need– damn it, Saerom, don't eat the– look, Joon, I need to go, the kids are crazy, but please pick up the wine?"
Namjoon heard the tone of the phone disconnecting and he blinked for a moment, still reeling from the fact that apparently he had to go fetch something? Now? In the middle of the day? When the Seoul Metro would be literally filled to the brim with people in suits and small children returning home from school and man what bad timing. Weren't companies supposed to deliver when you placed orders anyway? And couldn't he just pick it up tomorrow, it wasn't like the Americans were even in the country until the following week.
Dropping his hand from his ear, he considered his options. Middle of the day, packed metro, getting a taxi would be effectively pointless because the traffic and god, why couldn't he pick it up tomorrow? Namjoon began typing out a message to Hoseok, asking for the supplier's number so he could at least explain that he'd be late, because literally no one on the planet could expect him to go now when–
"Hi?" a soft voice from in front of him, "Sorry, I just? Can I order?"
Namjoon wasn't the kind of man who was normally distracted by things like pretty voices because goddamn in his line of work (or, well, second line of work) he spent a lot of time listening to pretty voices. But this voice was– god, it was like a cup of warm tea after a long day at work. Disarmed, his hands dropped to the counter gently placing the cellphone on the surface.
"Sure," he said, flicking his eyes up and grabbing at a dishcloth behind the counter as a reflex, "What can I get you?"
Namjoon sounded fine, he sounded normal, but anyone who knew him for long enough would pick up the strained note in his voice, the way his eyes rapidly blinked. The person in front of him was– Look, another perk of the (second) job was that Namjoon spent a lot of time working with beautiful people. Hell, even at the diner and bar, an unreasonable amount of his customers were unreasonably beautiful but this person? The person he'd been staring at during his entire phone conversation with Hoseok? This person was breathtaking.
Unlike most diner patrons in the middle of the day, this one was not clad in club clothing ready to get his drink on early. Or, well, Namjoon couldn't really say what his intentions were considering one could feasibly get wasted in a black sweatshirt and cargo pants. Like, it was possible. But Namjoon doubted it. More likely, the guy wanted a burger or something.
Namjoon's gaze fixed on his eyelashes, completely bare from any traces of makeup, and all he could think was god, I swear I'm not a creep, but how can someone have such long eyelashes surely thats not reasonable. Namjoon really didn't like how frazzled he was– frazzled meant mistakes got made, frazzled meant people got wrong orders and they got bad reviews and damn it, Namjoon liked his little diner and its ridiculous retro theme and goddamn if he had to listen to his parents moan on his head about how his little place was a drain on the money he earned from his "real job" Namjoon would literally go insane. So he had to at least try to focus on turning a decent profit and keeping a decent reputation.
"Uh," the guy twisted his lips around as he thought for a moment, before laughing shyly. "I was kind of hoping for your input on that."
"I mean, not to brag," Namjoon felt a smile bloom on his face, cheeks lifting unconsciously at the husky sound, "But we do have some fairly exceptional menu items, so you are going to have to be a little bit more specific with what kind of food you're in the mood for."
Because Namjoon knew his client base, he also knew that a combination of well done Korean and Western dishes would be a people pleaser in the little retro diner. Sometimes people wanted an American disco vibe while eating tteokbokki and Namjoon respected that, so at the very least the dude could tell him if he wanted American fare or Korean.
"Something very unhealthy," he hummed, "Lots of cheese. Something that would make my manager weep if he saw me eating it."
Manager? Namjoon did suppose the guy looked like an idol, but considering his own repertoire with famous people, Namjoon didn't recognise this person from any of the recent pop releases. Maybe he was debuting soon? That would make sense as to why he was cheating on a diet and why he was dressed as if a saesang could pop out and ask for his hand in marriage at any moment, but Namjoon was not a prier, even though as someone in the food service industry it was kind of his job, so he didn't ask. If the guy wanted to tell him, he could, but at that point it was none of Namjoon's business. Right then, Namjoon's business was to make sure the unnervingly pretty possible idol trainee chose a meal that would make him sing and hopefully promote the diner on his instagram page. He looked like the kind of pretty that would have at least a couple of thousand followers.
"Well, if it's unhealthy you're looking for," Namjoon slid a laminated paper menu towards the other end of the counter and tapped at a section detailing an entire world's worth of burgers, each more impressive than the next in their sheer volume. "I would highly recommend these babies. Made with hanwoo, you literally cannot get better than these anywhere. Plus, our chef makes each patty individually. It's an entire experience in itself."
Namjoon could have sworn the guy's eyes glazed over and he understood– Namjoon also got really excited about food. Which was why he owned a restaurant, although technically in the beginning the whole food aspect at least for Namjoon himself was a little dicey. But he learned. And he was pretty sure that he could confidently recreate any of the dishes Taehyung was so skilled at assembling on a daily basis.
That being said, he wouldn't have to, because Taehyung was literally the most dependable person on the planet.
"God, that sounds amazing. I kind of want to try everything on the menu, but also all I want is a giant juicy burger with like. So much cheese. I'm lactose intolerant but like I want so much cheese. How much cheese does the cheese burger come with?"
"Why do people who are lactose intolerant beg for cheese, do you not have any consideration for your intestines?"
"Look," the man levelled his gaze at Namjoon, a clear rebound at his jesting tone. "I know, okay, but sometimes you just need to eat something and then develop an intimate relationship with your toilet seat a few hours later. It's soul-cleansing. Almost religious. Like, with pleasure there always comes pain, you feel me?"
"We do have a vegan cheese option–"
"No offence to your vegan cheese, but I want cow cheese. Cheese from a cow. All the hormones and gross things that PETA likes to shove in our faces included. Gimme the cheese."
Namjoon cracked a smile at the sheer passion in the guy's voice when he talked about cheese. "Noted," he mimed writing down something on an imaginary notepad while enunciating his words, "Enough cheese to cause intestinal explosion and plumbing issues. Anything else?"
"Chilli? Like do you have anything spicy on there?"
"Why do you not value your bowels?"
"My bowels can shut the fuck up, I am hungry."
"Fair," Namjoon laughed, "Tell you what, our classic burger can be made painfully spicy and cheesy because our chef is also a lactose-intolerant masochist like yourself."
"Oh, absolutely excellent, tell them their taste is exquisite."
Namjoon felt a small sting in his cheeks, realising that he'd been smiling the entire time during his interaction with the customer and impossibly that made his grin wider. "Well, you can take a seat anywhere and I'll get that order in for you."
Turning around, Namjoon's eyes closed for a moment in happiness at how fun that was. This was what he liked about working in the service industry– the fact that sometimes (not often, but frequently enough that he didn't feel the need to simply shut the entire place down) people are just lovely and fun. It had been a while since Namjoon had fun like that, as sad as it sounded. But he was going to have to wipe the smile off his face before he slipped Taehyung the order, because he was not going to have to explain that he was grinning like an idiot because of a conversation about cheese with some bright-eyed customer.
Namjoon held himself back from turning around to catch a glimpse of the customer, heading down the hallway to the kitchen to slip Taehyung the order. Taehyung was busy on his phone when he arrived, the slow afternoon evident in the gentle way he blinked up at Namjoon.
"What do you mean by mountains of cheese," Taehyung pushed his spectacles up on his nose, peering at the little piece of paper Namjoon handed him with slightly narrowed eyes. "Specify mountains."
"The guy wants to shit his guts out after."
"Oh, cool," Taehyung nodded, deadpan. "Well, that's certainly the effect every chef goes for with their food, isn't it."
Namjoon pursed his lips. "You know what I mean."
"I think I do? Anyway, I have a massive shit inducing burger to make so shoo," he waved Namjoon off with a small smile.
Right. Because Namjoon couldn't stay in the kitchen all day. That wold simply be unreasonable. If Namjoon stayed in the kitchen all day, who would give the nice customer their food? Or take their drink order? So Namjoon had to go back down the hallway and he had to not stare at the customer and he had to make conversation that wasn't boring not because h wanted to impress the guy, oh no, but because he wanted to provide the best possible service to his customer. Yeah. That was it.
Namjoon slipped out of the kitchen as Taehyung busied himself with the food preparation and found himself colliding with an incredibly solid form. Namjoon furrowed his brows. He would describe himself as fairly large and solid in stature, so whoever had managed to stop him in his path and cause him to stumble back a little must have been an absolute unit of a person. Namjoon could literally feel the sensation of muscles against his skin. He found himself impressed, looking up and oh. It was the customer. The cute one, who liked the cheese.
"Ah, I was looking for the bathroom?" His voice lilted up at the end in a question.
Namjoon blinked. He knew he probably at some point stuttered out some directions, because the guy smiled at him and then meandered in the direction of the bathroom, but he stood there for a while, just blinking at the retreating back, because he was not expecting that. The guy was so solid. Like, solid solid. Namjoon felt like he needed a moment to process that.
He drifted back to his spot behind the bar almost as if in a trance, mind still focusing on two very specific details of a two-second interaction in the hallway, namely muscle and also eyes. Namjoon wished he could not be in the front of the house and seclude himself a little to smack himself, because eyes? Really? Was he insane? But he couldn't much help it, the guy really did have amazing eyes, all big and round and sparkly like some sort of Disney film character and–
"So," the guy slid into the bar chair across from where Namjoon was standing. "How long have you worked here?"
At this, Namjoon startled, and allowed an easy smile to slip onto his face after a moment watching the other man fiddle with a napkin, hands still damp presumably from having washed and dried them in the bathroom.
"A while," Namjoon tilted his head, leaning down on his elbows. "What brings you here?"
~
Usually, a customer would come in and they'd enjoy their food and maybe they'd pop by in a couple of weeks or the following month, but doe-eyes was there the next day at lunch when Namjoon walked back into the diner after heading out to fetch the champagne for the Americans. The guy was sitting in the same bar chair he had the previous day, this time in a yellow button-down and hair tied into a low bun, ears decked in less hardware than they had been before. Why Namjoon had fixated on the guy's damn ears, he did not know and quite frankly he was not interested in finding out because that was just a level of weird he was not interested in investigating.
At the tinkle of the bell that sounded when Namjoon entered, the man turned around, and Namjoon swore he wasn't being dramatic when he said that he felt like his heart stuttered at the sight of his smile. Bright and wide, front teeth peking out as he raised his hand in greeting.
"You liked the food that much?" Namjoon shouted over the box he was carrying in his hands, balanced precariously in his grip as he attempted to kick the door closed with a foot. They seemed to be the only people in the diner, which was odd but not entirely unusual except where was Taehyung, because Namjoon swore the other man was supposed to be in the front of the house.
As Namjoon neared the bar, rounding the corner somewhat unsteadily with the heavy, fragile cargo, doe-eyes stood up. "You need some help there?"
Namjoon raised an eyebrow as he set the box down behind the counter. "I'm a lot stronger than I look, I swear."
Doe-eyes chuckled, an awkward note rising from his throat as he sat back down. "By no means was I questioning your ability, but you did look a little wobbly there for a moment."
Namjoon sighed. "Story of my life. I've been wobbly from the day I was born."
"Long limb problems?"
"It's so unfair," Namjoon slumped over dramatically, resting his palms on the table's surface. "I didn't ask for bean-pole legs!"
"Oh, such a tragedy," he giggled, "Must be a real struggle all alone up there."
"You are aware we're like the same height, right?"
"Sometimes a couple of centimetres make a world of a difference," doe-eyes replied sagely, solemn until his eyes became impossibly wide as his brain clocked what he'd just said.
Namjoon felt a snort bubbling up in his chest, bursting out in a loud guffaw followed by an even louder cackle from the man in front of him. Moments passed as Namjoon began wiping at his eyes where tears had formed because god he needed that. He needed that laugh.
"I swear I didn't mean it like that," the man choked out, crinkling his nose so adorably that Namjoon would swear that he didn't internally coo but that would be a lie.
Namjoon let out an easy chuckle, filling a glass of water from the filter behind the counter. "I'm so sure."
Silence filled the diner as Namjoon slid the filled glass over to where his customer was sitting and Namjoon couldn't quite pinpoint when the guy had become his customer but that was something he was not going to address until he had a cup of coffee in him.
"Did Tae not help you yet?"
"Ah," the guy rubbed at the back of his neck, "He did, but I wanted your recommendation since I was practically skipping my way out of here yesterday, so I said I'd wait."
Were Namjoon's food recommendations that good? Granted, the burger was an impressive sight with all the fixings Taehyung had thought to include, but another one? Namjoon didn't know how he was going to top the cheesy monster he'd recommended the previous day.
"Well, what can I get you?"
"Hm, Taehyung-ssi said something about you guys having really good milkshakes?"
Namjoon groaned. "Have you not punished your intestines enough?"
Doe-eyes laughed again and Namjoon watched as his head tilted back to reveal a long column of skin.
"My intestines can handle it," he muttered, "Besides, I haven't had a milkshake in so long my god I almost forgot what it tastes like."
Namjoon wondered how strict the diet the kid must be on to not remember a milkshake, but he assumed that if doe-eyes was an idol trainee, most foods that bring joy must have been out of the question. Although, he did look a bit old to be an idol trainee, usually companies were hesitant to debut idols past their early 20s and Namjoon could have sworn the guy was only a few years younger than him.
A terrifying thought occurred to him. What if doe-eyes was like a teenager? What if he just looked a couple of years younger than Namjoon? What if Namjoon had been staring at the neck of a kid?
Horrified, he lifted his eyes up to the guy again, trying not to seem distressed by his sudden thought. "Hey, how old are you anyway?"
Doe-eyes blinked. "Me? I'm twenty-three, why?"
Namjoon internally sighed, trying not to let relief show on his face. "Well, I was gonna recommend this gorgeous caramel shake but it's got a shot of brandy in it so it's not like I can give that to a minor."
Yeah. That's totally why he asked. No other reason. Not because of a weird sense of sudden guilt for maybe sort of perhaps flirting with someone who could or could not be much younger than him nope that wasn't it!
Doe-eyes nodded like he understood, and Namjoon proceeded to lean himself over the counter on his forearms, peering at him.
"I'm Namjoon, by the way," he offered out a hand and the man took it wordlessly, encompassing Namjoon's broad palm in his own. His hands were soft, and Namjoon's brain paused at the slight difference in their skin tones pressed together like that. He'd not looked at the man's nails, but he saw now each little finger was tipped with a deep blue and it occurred to Namjoon that he'd never painted his nails, but now he kind of wanted to. Maybe he should ask Yoongi if he knew what polish was best.
"Jungkook," Doe-eyes replied with a small smile. "It's nice to meet you, Namjoon-ssi."
Namjoon huffed out a laugh. "Ah, call me Hyung, I am older than you, and if I'm advising you on how best to ruin your bowels you may as well call me familiarly."
Usually, Namjoon would not be this comfortable talking about personal business such as bowel movements with someone who may as well be a complete and utter stranger, but Namjoon was also his mother's child and his mother had little to no filter when enquiring about people's health as she liked to put it, because it was her way of showing she cared, and besides, it wasn't like the effects of dairy were a secret.
Doe-eyes (Jungkook, his brain supplied) giggled and shook his head. "Alright Hyung, what do you have for me to try today?"
Namjoon feigned a look of pensiveness, tilting his head to one side while tapping at his jaw. "Well, why don't we get you that milkshake and then we can decide from there, hmm?"
~
Namjoon wondered what job his now regular customer had that had him dressed up in such eclectic clothes. Since wandering into the diner a few weeks ago, Jungkook had become a frequent fixture on the barstool at the counter, wandering in with a ring of the bells at the door and a small wave in Namjoon's direction. Some days, the man was dressed down in mono-tone modern hanboks or sweatpants and t-shirts, and others he wore fitted jeans and button downs. And, less frequently, but still often enough to bring Namjoon to a pause, he would wander in with a full face of artsy makeup, decked from head to toe in clothing that screamed the word designer with every swish of fabric, sometimes in heels or maybe elaborate sneakers. And a ball cap. There was not a single day when Jungkook did not have a ball cap pulled over his eyes, which was swiftly removed as soon as he took his regular seat at the counter.
Namjoon found himself both enamoured and terrified at the familiarity of it all.
If there was one thing Namjoon knew, it was that getting attached to customers, to anyone outside of his little group of people he kept huddled close around him, was simply a recipe for disaster that he was not particularly interested in learning, but it wasn't like he could help it, now was it? He and Jungkook had developed a steady rapport that had gone from shy smiles and soft laughs to shouts of greeting that reverberated off the panelled walls of the restaurant and eager chuckles that had Taehyung poking his head out from the kitchen to see what was happening.
The thing was, Namjoon took immense pride in his restaurant, he really did. His parents had been skeptical when he told them he wanted to go into business in addition to working in music, hesitant that beginning a venture like that which required so much time and effort would place a dent in the career and reputation he had already begun building for himself in the entertainment sector, and seeing it do well was Namjoon's way of saying "See? Sometimes I do know what's best for myself."
So it really did bring him joy to see someone enjoy his place as much as Jungkook did. But it still made him curious– why was this guy coming in so frequently? Namjoon stalked his restaurant's Instagram tags like a hawk, and he'd yet to see anyone who resembled Jungkook mention it at all. As a novelty place, it was definitely the kind of restaurant people announced they were eating at, so what was Jungkook's deal? What was his thing? What did he do for a living? How did a 24 year-old afford such nice clothes? Was he a chaebol? Surely an idol trainee couldn't afford designer goods, nor would any idol trainee have the amount of time Jungkook spent in the little diner to spare. To Namjoon, he was a mystery.
Unfortunately, Namjoon liked mysteries.
Which meant Namjoon got invested.
"You know," Taehyung said, one day when Namjoon was heading out, "He comes by when you're not here too."
"Hm?"
"Jungkook-ssi, he comes by sometimes in the evenings when you're at the studio or at home. Never stays long. Just sort of pops in and leaves after a little while," he winked, "Seems like he only comes for the company."
Even though the diner functioned as a bar at night, Namjoon was rarely ever there at that time. As a night-owl, his most productive creative hours were at night, and it allowed him to get everything he needed to do done while still overseeing his little project.
"He does?"
"Yup," Taehyung popped the words, "On your off days too. Sometimes he'll stay and talk to me, sometimes he'll have a meal, but he only really stays as long as he does when you're here."
Namjoon wished Taehyung's words didn't cause a ribbon of joy to unfurl in his chest, but wishes didn't really come true, and Namjoon found himself grinning like an idiot in front of the glass-paned doors that closed around his restaurant.
"If I didn't know better," Taehyung cocked his head, "I'd say he had a bit of a crush on a certain someone."
Namjoon didn't blush. "Who? You? Hate to break it to you, Tae," he looked somewhere past Taehyung's shoulder, "But you don't really seem like Jungkook's type."
That was definitely the wrong thing to say. A knowing grin spread its way from Taehyung's lips to the tips of his ears, spilling over into his eyes as he barked out a laugh, and Namjoon felt his ears burn. "And what is his type, hmm, Namjoon-hyung? You?"
Before Namjoon could narrow his eyes and say something that was decidedly not a sputter of indignation, a voice piped up from behind him.
"Who's whose type?"
Namjoon turned to see Jungkook bounding up towards them and from the corner of his eyes saw Taehyung's smile stretch impossibly larger, as the other man raised his hand up in a half greeting as he called out "Jungkook-ah! Funny seeing you here!"
"Ah, Hyung," when had Jungkook started calling Taehyung hyung? "Just thought I'd pop by for a quick drink, you know..."
Namjoon was sure he was imagining the tint of pink on Jungkook's collarbones and ears, adorned once more today in an array of jewellery, this time less cold and leaning towards golden tones which cast his skin tone with a glowing hue.
"Ah, Namjoonie-hyung was just heading out, but if you'll be satisfied with me I would be more than happy to get you that drink?"
Namjoon watched Jungkook pull a face at Taehyung, his lips twisting into a small pout before he schooled his expression into a neutral look.
"Of course, Hyung," Jungkook turned to Namjoon and among the swelling noise of evening life, the jangle of his one earring sounded clear in Namjoon's ears. "Where were you off to, Namjoon-hyung?"
Behind Jungkook, Namjoon watched Taehyung slip back into the diner with a small wink, the doors shutting behind him.
In front of the face-brick facade, Jungkook looked at home– more at home than Namjoon had looked anywhere in his life in his wide-legged dark green trousers and billowy shirt. He looked like he belonged in the little retro joint, whereas Namjoon felt like a weak cosplay thrown together from hastily mismatched pieces.
"My uh," Namjoon couldn't remember where he was off to. He had something to do, but somehow it seemed a lot less important than the way the streetlight was reflecting in Jungkook's eyes.
"Your?"
"My friend, it's date night tonight and I have to take care of his daughter," Ah, yes. Hoseok. That was why Namjoon was occupied that evening.
"Good friend."
"I mean, I try, but honestly the only reason I'm looking after little one is because I probably haven't seen Hoseokie or his husband without bags under their eyes since they adopted her five months ago," Namjoon laughed.
Jungkook made a face of sympathy and understanding, pursing his lips in a little coo-ing motion. "She's still little?"
"Only nine months," Namjoon smiled softly, fishing his phone out from his back pocket. He opened it and swiped to the folder that had pictures of little Saerom. "See? Absolutely tiny."
"And she must look tinier next to you since you're so big," Jungkook whispered as he peered at the photo, one Hoseok had taken a few weeks prior. Namjoon was holding Saerom against his chest, identical crescent-mooned eyes on display as both of them smiled at Hoseok making silly faces behind the camera.
As Jungkook zoomed into the picture to get a better look, a strange look crossed his face. "Hyung, is she–"
Before he could complete his sentence, Hoseok's name popped up on Namjoon's phone screen, and Namjoon shot Jungkook a look of apology before clicking the accept button and pressing the phone to his ear.
"Hope-ah? What's up?"
"Namjonie," Hoseok's voice was murderously sweet, "My dear, sweet best friend. What time is it."
Namjoon's brain paused, his eyeballs rolling back as he tried to mentally calculate the time. "Uh, six?"
"Nope," Namjoon could picture the acid smile on his friend's face, "It's seven. Namjoon-ah, you were supposed to be here an hour ago."
"Oh no," Namjoon wailed, "I swear I was leaving on time, but I think I got distracted?"
A sigh. "It's okay, Namjoon-ah, Seokjinnie hasn't come home yet, and our reservation's not for a while, just... Try and get here asap? Saeromie misses her Uncle Joonie."
If there was one thing that made Namjoon's heart melt, it was when Hoseok and Seokjin referred to him as "Uncle Joonie". Even though the prospect of having his own children was looking slimmer and slimmer as time wore on, Namjoon really did love them. Their kindness, their joy. Their lack of an agenda. Saerom especially, because she was simply so tiny, was a joy for him to behold.
Clicking the phone off, Namjoon made an apologetic noise. "Ah, sorry Jungkook-ah, I have to go. See you another day?"
Jungkook still had a dazed look on his face, nodding silently as Namjoon wrapped his coat around him a bit tighter as he began making his way to the station. Hoseok and Seokjin's apartment was only a couple of stops away from the Hongdae bar, he'd end up in Namsan quickly enough that Hoseok probably wouldn't need to call him again. Briefly, Namjoon felt bad about cutting Jungkook off like that, but when he turned back to check the other man, Jungkook was gone– probably filtered off inside to grab that drink Taehyung had promised him.
When Namjoon entered the reception of the large, high-end apartment building Hoseok and his husband called home, the receptionist waved him through with a smile, and on his way up he eyed the small teddy bear he'd picked up at one of the station shops on his way there.
Before he could even knock on the door, Hoseok was flinging it open and shuffling him in, grabbing at the little bear with glee before shouting, "Saeromie, look what Uncle Joon got you!"
In her high chair at the counter, the baby squealed, arms immediately reaching out for the toy. Behind him, Namjoon closed the door and slipped his shoes off at the rack in the entry way before eying the little bowl on the tray in front of Saerom.
"Were you feeding her?"
"Trying to," Hoseok replied, wagging the toy in front of his daughter's face, "But you try and get a nine month old to eat juk when she's decided its her mortal enemy and see what happens."
"Hope-ah, she's a baby, she doesn't have enemies," Namjoon snickered.
Hoseok shot him a look over his shoulder. "My sleep schedule is her mortal enemy."
"Again, she's a baby," Namjoon leaned down in front of Saerom's high chair and began cooing at her, a smile spreading almost instantaneously over his face as he placed gentle kisses on each one of her soft cheeks. "Saeromie is too sweet to have enemies, isn't she?"
"Over a decade of friendship and you cast me aside for my child," Hoseok sounded indignant.
"Would you rather me not love your baby?"
"Of course not, I expect everyone to love Saerom more than anything in the world, I mean look at her little cheeks!"
Her little cheeks were indeed cute. Eventually, with Namjoon's help and the promise of the bear to play with after dinner, Hoseok managed to get his child to eat, and the three migrated to the living room floor as the baby crawled around with her toys.
"So," Namjoon reclined against the couch, "Where's Seokjin-hyung?"
Hoseok pouted. "Had something to do at work, his favourite client had a shoot or something that ran late. It's okay though, because the kid's adorable."
Seokjin's job was one Namjoon often marvelled at– how the other man successfully navigated work, where he took care of other people for a living, and came home and managed to do the same with his own family. Seokjin cooked, he took care of Saerom when Hoseok couldn't. He was a perfect illustration in balance. Even though Namjoon had only met Seokjin two years before, he had quickly become one of the people Namjoon admired most in his life.
"The kid is indeed adorable." Namjoon chuckled.
After some time of play, Namjoon heard the keys jangle in the door and Saerom's head shot up from where she was staring at the toy in Namjoon's hands and her little teeth that were still growing in showed as she gurgled happily.
"My darling, my light!" Seokjin shouted as he slipped off his shoes.
Hoseok rose to meet him and Namjoon made a face, turning towards them. "You are so disgusting."
"How is loving my family disgusting?" Seokjin giggled and greeted Hoseok with a kiss on his forehead.
"Literally, some of us are single and your sappy displays of affection are offensive."
"Does Namjoonie want some love too?" Hoseok crowed from under Seokjin's arm and–
"No," Namjoon's eyes widened at the sight of Hoseok advancing towards him, "Seok-ah, no leave me a–"
But it was too late. Before Namjoon could complete his sentence his best friend was upon him making kissy faces as he squirmed out of his hold.
Before long, after several long smooches on Namjoon's cheeks from both Hoseok and Seokjin, the couple were on their way out the door, coats in tow, Hoseok sadly waving goodbye to Saerom promising he would be home within the hour Saeromie, Daddy promises as Seokjin ushered him out with a wink.
The door shut behind them and Namjoon and Saerom were alone. Namjoon turned to the child, seated in her play chair on the floor, babbling at the pages of an open picture book.
It was a sight Namjoon was familiar with– he wasn't much of a going out person, most of his spare time away from the diner was spent at work or with the small family that his best friend had begun building. Rarely did Namjoon feel lonely, because he surrounded himself with people that were filled with so much light and love and happiness that theirs overflowed and began filling him, too. It was only occasionally, at moments like this, when Namjoon felt somewhat empty.
He knew the traditional life– a spouse, children, a family– wasn't all there was to a happy existence. He knew there were many paths to happiness. He knew that in order to be happy, he would have to first fill himself up and then find others to overflow into. He couldn't walk into a partnership feeling half empty– it was a recipe for disaster.
"You really have great dads, you know that?"
~
Namjoon didn't see Jungkook for a while after that. He was swamped with work, meaning that more and more shifts had to be delegated to Taehyung in the front of house, and a small part of him wondered how someone could become such a regular part of your life when you barely knew them.
He wondered, while he was in the studio working on an up-and-coming indie band's new album, what Jungkook did in the time when Namjoon didn't see him. What he did when the two men didn't bond over burgers or kimchi jjigae or milkshakes. Why he was always dressed like someone who had somewhere to be.
It was interesting how, in someone's absence, they can become a greater part of your life than ever.
When Namjoon's schedule finally aligned and he had enough time to go back to the regular running of his little diner, he found his head darting up every couple of minutes to check if maybe Jungkook had somehow slipped through the door and the little bells that hung above it simply didn't ring. It got so bad that from the kitchen Taehyung shouted out something along the lines of "a watched pot never boils!" and Namjoon's ears reddened at the implication that his friend knew he was looking for Jungkook.
There was something about someone knowing what you were doing that just made the whole thing extra embarrassing.
The sounds of people speaking drawing near drew Namjoon's attention up to the entryway once more, and he felt himself lean forward slightly in anticipation.
A loud, familiar laugh sounded through his ears as the bells above the door tinkled and Namjoon's brows furrowed as Seokjin's broad form filtered through the doorway, head turning back to look at someone else with a smile and was that Jungkook? Jungkook with Seokjin?
Again, Namjoon's eyes were drawn to Jungkook's earrings, little metal dangly things hitting his neck just so, a neck that was covered by the fabric of a turtle-neck that led down to broad shoulders and a slender waist and–
"Namjoon-ah!" Seokjin called, "What a surprise this is!"
"Hyung, wha–? I'm almost always here?"
Seokjin levelled a look at Namjoon and for some reason he felt incredibly stupid in that moment. "I mean what a surprise that the place that my dear Jungkookie's been disappearing off to after work just happens to be your fine dining establishment!"
Jungkook looked positively mortified as Seokjin patted him on the head in a gesture that was disturbingly paternal for two people who were less than a decade apart in age, blushing pink and scrunching his face up before he hit the other man in the stomach, decidedly not hard enough for Seokjin to double-over and begin coughing dramatically, which is exactly what the other man did.
Neither Jungkook nor Namjoon reacted. After a while, Seokjin straightened up and glared at them both.
"You know, your blatant disregard for your Hyung's health is absolutely deplorable."
Jungkook sighed and rolled his eyes, patting Seokjin on the back. "Maybe I'd be more concerned if my hyung wasn't such a drama queen all the time."
Seokjin gasped. "A drama queen? Why I'd never!"
The giggle Namjoon had been holding in burst out as he met Jungkook's eyes, both of them dissipating into peels of laughter as Seokjin stared at them in mock outrage.
"You know, you feed someone, clothe them, send them into the world," Seokjin tsked, glaring at Jungkook. "And all you get is disrespect. I hope Saeromie doesn't turn out as rude as you, Jungkook-ah."
"Ah Hyung," Jungkook sobered up, "You know I love you, I'm just teasing."
The entire situation had Namjoon's brain running circles around itself trying to explain. Seokjin, Jungkook, together? Know each other? It was like two of Namjoon's worlds had collided–the little bubble of the diner in which he and Jungkook and sometimes Taehyung when he ventured out of the kitchen existed in and the life Namjoon had outside of his restaurant, the life with friends and work and Hoseok and Seokjin merging together at once. How the hell did Jungkook and Seokjin know each other? How were they so close?
"I, uh, hi?" Namjoon began, unsure as to what, exactly, to ask. "You guys uh? What?"
"Hi, Hyung," Jungkook smiled and waved from next to Seokjin.
"Namjoon-ah, offer your poor ailing Hyung a seat, will you?" Seokjin proceeded to lower himself into one of the stools.
"Seokjin-hyung, you are aware that you're like... two years older than me? You do know that, right? You're nowhere near decrepit."
Next to Seokjin, Jungkook also took a seat, fishing a clip out of his pocket to sweep his hair out of his eyes, pinning it back with the sparkly green metal and flashing Namjoon a grin.
"So, Hyung, what do you have on the menu for me today?"
"Yes, Namjoon-ah, what greasy, salty, altogether bad-for-Jungkook food do you have to offer Jungkook today," Seokjin laughed.
Namjoon had no idea what was so funny.
Sensing Namjoon's confusion, Seokjin shook his head. "You look lost, Joon-ah."
"Uh, yes? Kind of?" Namjoon puzzled through his words. "How do you two know each other?"
Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, well I–. Hyung's my manager?"
Manager? Seokjin was Jungkook's manager? Namjoon had never seen a relationship between manager and idol as relaxed as Seokjin's and Jungkook's one appeared, although–
"You're an idol?" Namjoon asked, brows furrowed. "How come I've never seen you perform?"
At his words, Seokjin barked out a laugh. "Idol? Joon-ah, you know I don't work with idols, that's Seok-ah's area. Jungkook's a model."
Model. Oh. That made... Actually, now that Namjoon thought about it, it made a surprising amount of sense. The clothes, Jungkook's seemingly endless amount of time in the afternoon to eat with Namjoon, the fact that he had a manager. That also explained his enthusiasm for things like cheese and chillis– bloating foods, probably not often eaten because of his career, although Namjoon genuinely doubted that Jungkook could ever look less than appealing. Was that weird? It sounded weird. Namjoon swore he wasn't being weird about Jungkook, he was just really attractive and Namjoon wasn't blind!
"Namjoon? You good?"
Seokjin and Jungkook were looking at him with a look resembling concern, brows identically furrowed in a way that made Namjoon want to ask if they were siblings. He knew, of course, that they weren't– he'd met Seokjin's brother and his family at the wedding years ago, and Jungkook was definitely not among the cohort of Kims he'd encountered at the reception. Namjoon would have remembered if he was.
"Yeah, I'm just," he paused, turning to Jungkook, "You're a model? That's really cool."
"It's so weird that you two met like this when I literally spend the majority of my time with each of you, independently. Like the time I spend not at work is with Hoseok and Saerom and at least 50% of the time Namjoonie is there too as an extended member of our family, and the time I spend at work is with Jungkook and it's just so odd that of all the ways for you two to meet it wasn't through me!" Seokjin interjected, hands flattening over one of the laminated menus.
"Ah, Hyung, you do realise you aren't the main character of everyone's story, right?" Jungkook laughed, leaning into Seokjin easily. "Sometimes people meet without intervention from other actors i their lives."
As he said this, he slotted his gaze to Namjoon with a conspiring smile. What did that mean?
"Jungkook-ah's right," Namjoon leaned his hip against the counter, "I know you and Hoseok are living in your own little rom-com, but sometimes the stars just align and people meet, you know?"
Namjoon was not a believer in fate but sometimes that was how the world worked– stars aligning, events taking place at precisely the right time for something completely unexpected to happen. It was the entire story of humanity. Every single condition aligned perfectly in one specific formation to cause a series of conditions which enabled humanity to evolve in the way it did. It was miraculous. It was crazy. And it was something Namjoon had long learned to accept as a fact of life rather than an exception to the rule.
Seokjin huffed and turned to perusing the menu while Jungkook focussed his attention on Namjoon.
"So, Hyung, what do you have for me today?"
Over the course of Jungkook's visits to the diner, they had made their way through the majority of the menu items, Namjoon selecting each item in line with what Jungkook described.
"What are you in the mood for?"
"I was thinking," Jungkook began, drawing out the words with a teasing smile on his face. "I can have that first burger you gave me, the hanwoo cheese burger? For old times' sake?"
"Oh, Namjoon-ah, you have to join us, it doesn't sit well with my spirit that you'll be watching us eat," Seokjin cackled, "You can get me one of the same, I'm absolutely ravenous."
"Hyung, I can't just–"
"Namjoon-ah, it's your slow hour. We're basically the only customers in here. It's okay, take a break, I know you've been working non-stop this month. Eat with your friends."
Friends. Jungkook was Namjoon's friend. He didn't quite know why that sent a giddy zip of electricity through his veins as he turned to put their orders in with a nod, but it did. Jungkook was Namjoon's friend. Just like Jungkook being a model, even though it hadn't occurred to him before, it made sense. Friends spent time together. They were certainly more than aquaintences. Sure, it was slightly strange that Namjoon didn't know what his friend did for a living, but he knew things that he would consider important. He knew Jungkook was lactose intolerant. He knew he hated the feeling of cashmere on his skin. He knew the smell of Hongdae felt like home to Jungkook, even though the two had debated the mechanics of how a place could smell like something so distinct.
Making his way into the kitchen, Namjoon noticed Taehyung concentrating very intently on his cellphone.
"Taehyung-ah," he cleared his throat, "I have three orders for Jungkook's first meal. You know the one the–"
"Hanwoo cheese burger, spicy, yeah I know," Taehyung smiled, "Although three? Jungkook isn't alone?"
"So funny story apparently Jungkook and Seokjin-hyung of all people are really close."
At Taehyung's surprised smile, Namjoon nodded again. "I know, right? Funny how things work out, isn't it? Anyway, Seokjin-hyung is here today and he wants me to eat with him so," Namjoon shrugged, "Looks like I'm putting in an order for three."
"Ah, I'm happy Hyung's taking a break," Taehyung grinned. "Tell you what, I'll bring your orders out and you can just sit and relax. Maybe get to know Jungkookie a bit more!"
That did sound nice, although Namjoon squinted at the teasing way Taehyung dropped Jungkook's name in the conversation. He hummed before returning to the counter, this time on the other side.
Seokjin was right– they were the only people seated in the diner. Typically, the most busy hours were in the evening, the diner functioning more as a bar than an eating establishment, but the evening was when Namjoon produced, so he was rarely ever there. That was usually Yoongi or Hoseok's baby.
Pulling out the seat next to Jungkook, Namjoon felt his body begin to shrink in on itself on its own accord, a familiar shyness bubbling up as he cleared his throat. Somehow, he didn't quite know what to say.
Shooting a teasing look at Namjoon, Seokjin brought his phone out and began typing at the screen rather intensely, the sly smile on his face disappearing as he began concentrating on whatever he was doing.
"Sorry about Jin-hyung," Jungkook leaned into Namjoon's side to whisper, "He gets like this sometimes, always has to find time for work."
Yeah, Namjoon was sure it was work and not Seokjin meddling. Totally, completely just work. From the spot beside Jungkook, when he leaned in, Namjoon could smell the gentle vanilla notes of his body spray teasing at his nose. Namjoon could see the way the hairs escaping from his clip brushed at his skin. Namjoon had a front-seat view of the earrings that so often dangled against Jungkook's neck.
Namjoon needed to not be weird.
Could you even imagine– Namjoon gets to chill with the person he's fascinated by (not interested in damn it he swore) and he messes it up by saying something stupid like "what moisturiser do you use for your neck?" A disaster. And Namjoon was 100% the kind of shy, awkward dumbass who, in a moment of panic trying to find something to say, would totally blurt something like that out.
Charming, he muttered to himself. Be charming, Namjoon.
"What was that?" Jungkook widened his eyes as if to catch the words in his gaze. Oh god, Namjoon had said that out loud, hadn't he? Why the hell was he such a disaster in front of pretty people, it wasn't fair!
"...What's not fair?"
Jesus. Namjoon blinked for a moment before opening his mouth with intent to say something marginally intelligent and not thinking. "Nothing, I just– so how long have you known Jin-hyung?"
Jungkook hummed. "I think maybe five years? I was Hyung's first client, so we've been working together for about as long as my career."
That was– somehow Namjoon didn't think that Jungkook would have known Seokjin before him. In his head it was sometimes as if people didn't exist until they came into his life, and it was odd, in that moment, that Jungkook and Seokjin had had a relationship outside of Namjoon since before he'd even met the latter. Logically, Namjoon knew that people had lives, that was kind of just the way things worked, but sometimes brains don't like logic. Sometimes brains just think things. Namjoon's brain was just thinking things.
"You're close?"
"Very," Jungkook sipped his water, "For the first couple of years, Seokjin-hyung and I spent almost every moment together. When my career finally began taking off, he expanded his client base a bit, but we've still always worked best together in my humble opinion." He leaned forward to whisper again. "Don't tell anyone, but I think I'm Seokjin-hyung's favourite client."
"And you?" Jungkook continued, "I've met Hoseok-hyung several times, I can't believe we've never run into each other. I'm over there every second week, seems like."
Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, guess timing just never worked out?"
"Well, it's okay, we know each other now" Jungkook smiled.
Seokjin was still busy perusing his emails, so Namjoon leaned back into the stool and sighed. "You're right. I suppose it doesn't matter that we didn't meet before, because it happened eventually."
"Yup. Besides," Jungkook grinned, "I don't think you'd have wanted to know me a couple of years back."
Oh? "Why's that?"
He hummed. "Well, I wasn't always the most... stable of people, let's say. For a while there, I was the definition of a workaholic, wouldn't sleep, wouldn't do anything besides my shoots and working out and if I wasn't doing that then I was preparing for the next gig. Drove Seokjin-hyung absolutely insane."
That, Namjoon could understand. It was something he'd fought again often as well, the insatiable need to be perfect, be better, be the best. It was a difficult mistress to cut off. Once he tasted success, the thrill of hard work and the possibility of even more to come was something he never wanted to let go of. Unfortunately, it was a dangerous thing to keep.
With a small smile, Namjoon rapped his fingers on the wooden counter. "I get that. It's like– you know, we're told our whole lives that we have to work hard, right? And we get to a point where hard work is almost all we can see? All we want? And I don't think that's particularly sustainable?"
His voice rose up, almost as if in question, as if he was unsure of his words or unsure of the way his words would be received. However, Jungkook nodded, an understanding look filling his eyes.
"It definitely isn't. According to Seokjin-hyung and the doctor, I was apparently on the fast-track to retirement by force. So i slowed down," Jungkook grinned, "Learned how to take breaks. Found things other than work that I enjoy, you know?"
"I always found it funny how taking breaks was a skill. You have to work at it in order to be good. It's so weird, because isn't it supposed to be human nature, relaxing? But no," Namjoon scoffed, stretching his arms out in front of him, "No, we have to figure it out, like we have to figure out reading or maths. It's so weird."
"And the worst part is that it isn't even fun perfecting it as a skill," Jungkook deadpanned, "One would think relaxation practice would be a breeze, but it's veritable torture. I have the attention span of a goldfish– I can't sit and do nothing for too long, or I'll tear my hair out!"
Chuckling, Namjoon nodded his head, rubbing his fingers along the rim of his water glass. He heard his and Jungkook's laughs echo off the walls, mingling together as they bounced back into his ears. They sounded happy.
"As a chronic fidgeter, I relate," Namjoon said solemnly, and raised his glass in mock-toast. "But hey, here's to getting better at doing nothing. May we both be unproductive in future."
Giggling, Jungkook raised his own glass of water to Namjoon's and the clink of the glass resounded, tinkling with their laughs and their breaths and the gentle jingle of Jungkook's earrings. Namjoon almost groaned. It was music, and musician that he was, he wanted to pull his cellphone out and start recording.
That would be weird, though. Namjoon promised himself he wouldn't be weird.
However, Namjoon did make a mental note to attempt to recreate the sounds when he got back home for the evening.
"So," Jungkook took a long sip of his water, "How long have you and Hoseokie-hyung known each other?"
Namjoon pursed his lips in thought. "Maybe, seven years? Eight? I met Seok-ah in our last year of high school, we were both idol trainees if you can believe it?"
Jungkook gaped at him. "What?"
"Yeah," Namjoon laughed, almost self-consciously. "This new entertainment company was starting up, wanted to redefine the meaning of an idol, combed through every underground hip-hop show and performing arts school for talent that could make music as well as perform it. Instead of being idols, however," Namjoon grinned, "I decided to go into producing. Song-writing. Seok-ah stayed on as a choreographer. The roles suited us a bit better, I think."
"A producer?" Jungkook gestured around them, at the diner. "Then what's this place?"
"Ah, Kook-ah," Namjoon grinned, "I am a man of varied interests. Thought it would be interesting to try my hand at business a few years ago and this place was born."
Jungkook made an understanding noise, nodding slow and big as he glanced around him. "So, this is all you?"
"I mean," he started, "Not entirely. Taehyung-ah helped me so much, he deserves like at least half the credit. In the beginning, I couldn't even boil an egg."
"You own a restaurant."
"And?" Namjoon laughed in mock outrage. "Owning a food establishment does not need cooking skills. Maybe it's preferred, but it sure as hell isn't necessary."
"You can cook now, though, right?" Jungkook looked concerned.
"Oh, I most definitely can. Taehyung is a force and a half when he puts his mind to something, and he just decided that I had to know how to cook– he asked me what I'd do if he was sick, and the promptly spent three hours peering over my shoulder in the kitchen correcting every. Single. Move. I made." Namjoon shuddered in memory. "Don't let that boxy smile fool you, that man is ruthless."
"Even towards his Hyung?" Jungkook snickered, shooting a look to the corridor that led to the kitchen.
"Yah, Jeon Jungkook," Seokjin called out. "Don't pretend you care about respecting elders when you spent the taxi ride over here practically crushing your poor Hyung with your thighs."
Jungkook winked at Namjoon before sticking his tongue out at Seokjin and laughing, and Namjoon felt his own chest open up, become lighter. He found himself floating among the lighting fixtures. It was an amazing feeling, that levity. Namjoon thought it was amazing, the things a wink and a laugh could do to someone.
Seokjin joining in on the conversation, the three began an easy rapport as they waited for Taehyung to bring out their meals. When Taehyung appeared, Namjoon smiled, getting up to help him. A fourth plate was brought out– one for Taehyung himself. The four ate together, chatting and laughing in the mid-afternoon light filtering in through the windows in the front of the diner, and Namjoon found that his heart felt fuller that it had in a little while.
~
The next day, Namjoon found himself frazzled as he took stock, waiting for another one of his employees to clock in. Sooyoung was in the front of the house, her voice filtering through the hallway to the stock room and Namjoon thought, briefly, how different she and Jungkook were. Not in a bad way, but the two twenty-three year olds were like night and day. Jungkook brought with him a sense of peace, a sense of rest. Sooyoung brought a sense of life. Namjoon looked forward to her shifts, because she really was a wonderful friend, but Namjoon looked forward to seeing Jungkook maybe a little bit more, and it was not because he had a crush, no matter what Seokjin had told Hoseok.
When Namjoon got home last night from the studio, it was like Hoseok sensed it with the way his cellphone rang as soon as he stepped through the door. Then, the inquisition began.
"So," Hoseok drew out, his voice overtly teasing over the speaker. "Jinnie told me something veeryyy interesting."
"Seokjin-hyung is a liar." Namjoon shot out, slipping his shoes onto the shoe-rack.
A gasp. "How dare you say that about my husband."
"Anything Jin-hyung told you about me today is a lie, Seok-ah, trust me," Namjoon huffed out a laugh.
"Methinks you are a liar."
"Methinks?' Namjoon sandwiched the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he slipped his coat off before wandering into his lounge. "When are we, 1768?"
"That is a very specific year, but okay," Hoseok laughed. "Anyway, Jinnie said that someone has a little bit of a crush on our Jungkookie–"
"It is not a crush, he is good company–"
"I didn't even know you knew Jungkook-ah, we have to all hang out some time, maybe go on a double date or–"
"Hoseok-ah, I do not like Jungkook, okay?" Namjoon's voice was firm. There was silence at the other end of the phone at his words, and Namjoon sighed. "Look, Jungkook is great. He's wonderful. But I'm just not emotionally available for a relationship, you know?"
"Joon, it's been years. "
"And?" Namjoon asked. "That doesn't mean anything. I know I can't get involved with someone, and besides." He picked at his cuticles. "Jungkook's out of my league, you know?"
More silence. "What do you mean by that, Joon?"
Namjoon rolled his eyes, sitting down on his couch. He really was not in the mood to get into this today. Hoseok was always on his case about his self-esteem, and sure, maybe he was a little self-deprecating sometimes, but god even a blind man could see that he and Jungkook weren't compatible. Jungkook was a model for god's sake. Namjoon was... Namjoon.
"Nothing, Seok-ah," Namjoon sighed, and caught the sounds of Saerom cooing in the background. "Tell Saeromie I love her, okay? I have to go now, got to make dinner."
"Wait, Namjoon–"
Namjoon felt bad, momentarily, for cutting off his friend with the ending of the call, but sue him– he was tired.
And besides, he wasn't in the mood to get into a discussion with Hoseok detailing and listing out every single one of his flaws as reasoning as to why Jungkook was in one class and Namjoon was, decidedly, not. Contrary to popular belief, Namjoon was not frequently in the habit of disparaging himself more than necessary.
Sighing, he hung up the phone and stared at one of the paintings hanging on the wall. It was something he bought once on a gallery jaunt with Taehyung– an abstract piece that brought to mind the image of a forest, of life, of rebirth. He supposed he bought it in some sort of hope that it would spark a revolution in his own life. The painting, titled Untitled 43, was by far the most he'd ever spent on a piece of art, and he didn't know who the artist was, only that the piece spoke to him. And in that moment, it was enough. Namjoon felt like he needed a revolution in his life.
While the grande upheaval he had been hoping for – maybe taking a big move to London or Rio, shaving off all his hair, going skydiving or something of the sort– did not come, Namjoon began making small changes, the most notable of which was, of course, turning the diner into a bar-hybrid. Maybe it was in the hopes that one day he'd end up spending his evenings there instead of at home or in the studio. Get him out a little. Or maybe it was just coincidence that the same time he bought the painting he invested in a substantial liquor stock and bought a bicycle which he intended to use to cycle to work every day and miraculously did start using to cycle to work each day.
He found himself faced with the same sorts of feelings that had brimmed in his stomach that day he bought the painting. The feeling of possibility and of change. While, like every person, change was daunting to Namjoon, he was the kind of person who quite enjoyed it. Something about all the ways things could pan out unfolding in his mind made his chest expand until it was as wide as a building in central Seoul and let air filter into his lungs in a way that was easier, so much easier than usual.
Possibility. Change. Rebirth.
In the stock room, Namjoon shook his head out of his recollections, turning his attention to the spreadsheet on the tablet before him, double-checking that the new software they'd installed to keep track of stock and sales was working properly. The software engineers had assured him that there was no need, that every thing would be fine, but Namjoon thought it was better to check, just at the beginning, for his own peace-of-mind.
As he did his final round of checks, Seokjin's name flashed on his phone. Usually, it was Hoseok calling Namjoon, even if Seokjin was the one who wanted something from him. Weird.
Twisting his lips, Namjoon answered. "Hyung, what's up?"
"Namjoon-ah," Seokjin sounded frazzled and filtered, as if he was standing a distance away from the mic. "You know I wouldn't ask unless it was an emergency, but..."
At Seokjin's pleading tone, Namjoon sighed. "Yes?"
"Please can you bring me the files I left on our dining room table? Seok-ah's at work and my assistant is half-way across town, you're the only person I know who'll be able to get to my apartment and here before I need those files."
"Where is 'here', Hyung," Namjoon asked patiently, already flipping the cover over the tablet and slipping out of the storeroom.
To Sooyoung, he gestured that he'd be leaving, grabbing his messenger-bag from behind the counter as she shot him a small thumbs-up in acknowledgement.
"DMC?" Seokjin cautioned, a note of hope in his voice.
Of course. Digital Media City. Seokjin was indeed correct that Namjoon was close, and he supposed it really wouldn't take that long to pop over to the apartment and grab whatever Seokjin needed. Maybe he could even score food out of the deal.
"Give me maybe thirty minutes?" Namjoon asked, the little bell tinkling behind him as the door to the diner shut.
After about a minute of rigorous thanks from Seokjin, Namjoon swiped his phone on the station scanner, slipping his headphones on before taking the familiar route to his train.
~
Standing outside of the building Seokjin had texted him the address of, Namjoon felt remarkably out of place in his overalls. Even though he worked in the entertainment industry, there was something decidedly glossy about what Namjoon assumed was the model agency building Seokjin worked in that so greatly contrasted the entertainment company his studio was housed in, and that was in Gangnam. He assumed it was because, even in the admin-side of the modelling industry judging by the fact that Seokjin worked as a manager instead of a model, every person who had contact with it was freakishly attractive which translated of course into a more polished appearance of the company as a whole.
Well, whatever. It wasn't like Namjoon's work boots were offending anyone, and besides they could be considered en mode depending on what week it was in the fashion cycle. He was willing to defend his style choices if he had to.
Giving his name to the receptionist, the greying man behind the desk waved him up, something about Seokjin expecting him, and Namjoon bowed to him in thanks before making his way up the twenty floors in an elevator. The building was busy, and yet no one paid him any mind, everyone probably too occupied with their daily tasks to even notice Namjoon curiously peering into the open doors of the hallway, searching for the room that would apparently hold Seokjin. Damn, why was this company so long?
At maybe the seventh door he peered into, he caught sight of Seokjin's back and head bent over and examining a series of screens, all of which showed the same picture of one Jeon Jungkook's profile. This was a shoot, Namjoon realised. Seokjin had had him bring something to his shoot with Jungkook.
Did he knock, or..?
Before Namjoon could do an awkward little dance of tapping gently on the door and clearing his throat softly, a voice rang out from further into the room. "Namjoon-hyung!"
Turning, a look of relief crossed Seokjin's face. "Oh, Namjoon, thank god. Well, what are you doing standing there, come on in!"
As Namjoon approached, the photographer called for a break and the staff around Seokjin disappeared. Jungkook was approaching them and oh. Oh god. He was wearing a tennis skirt.
Namjoon heard himself audibly gulp and took a deep breath, attempting to calm his heart-beat, but god it was difficult because thighs. Jungkook's thighs. Toned and golden and just there under the powder-blue fabric of his skirt as if their existence wasn't the most momentous thing in Namjoon's entire life like ever. Alright, maybe Namjoon was exaggerating–
"Joon-ah?" Seokjin prodded his side, "Joon-ah, you're staring."
"Oh!" Namjoon startled out of the veritable trance Jungkook's skin had had him in. God, first his neck and now his thighs? What was Jungkook, a chicken that Namjoon was eyeing up his body parts like that? Namjoon was disgusted with himself, good god. He fiddled with the documents in his bag for a moment before pulling them out and thrusting them towards Seokjin in a flurry of paper. "Right, here you go, Hyung, the papers you asked for!"
Seokjin perused the documents for a moment before sighing in relief once more. "Thank you," He looked up at Namjoon. "Seriously."
"You really saved Hung's hide," Jungkook giggled, sidling up to Namjoon. "He was ready to start crying before he saw you, those papers are apparently part of a massive meeting he has in like fifteen minutes."
"Fifteen minutes?" Namjoon asked. "Hyung, why the hell are you in here then? Shouldn't you be, I don't know, sitting in a board-room? Stress-prepping?"
Seokjin laughed. Before he could answer, Jungkook spoke again. "You saw how Hyung was tyrannically hovering over the photos just now? That was his version of stress-prep."
Namjoon joined their chuckles and shook his head. "Ah, well, if that's all you need from me–"
"Nonsense!" Seokjin cried, "You've literally saved my ass, at least let Hyung buy you lunch."
Ah. Food. "But, don't you have a meeting?"
Seokjin tsked. "Then Jungkook-ah will buy you food with the company card, isn't that right Jungkook-ah?"
Jungkook grinned and nodded. "Are lamb-skewers okay with you, Hyung?"
This question, he directed at Namjoon, and he found himself once more basking in the warmth of the younger's smile, teeth peeking out over the top of his bottom lip in a way that made Namjoon feel warm.
"Yup," Namjoon breathed. "Sure. Lamb-skewers are great."
Not even questioning it, Namjoon followed Jungkook out of the room, waving a brief goodbye to Seokjin.
Unfortunately, Namjoon found himself in the predicament that he did not, for the life of him, know where to look, because Jungkook's ass was just. It was a lot. On a normal day, it was a lot, but in a little blue tennis skirt? Namjoon was not a religious man, but he found himself wondering if maybe sending a prayer or two to a couple of deities would help him not spontaneously combust as he followed Jungkook into the elevator, trying and failing to keep his eyes on anywhere but the swishing skirt encasing Jungkook's bottom.
"You coming?" Jungkook looked back at Namjoon from the boundary of the elevator.
Namjoon did not gulp. He blinked before nodding tightly and following Jungkook in.
Namjoon was sure he was imagining it, because there was no way that the elevator was that warm. It was almost winter, for god's sakes. It wasn't that warm on his way up. Why was it warm then? Also, small. Namjoon never really had a problem with small spaces before, but he began to wonder in the brief ride to the ground floor whether or not he'd suddenly become claustrophobic.
"I hope our little lunch outing isn't taking you away from anything important?" Jungkook enquired as the doors opened and the two of them filtered out into the semi-crowded reception area.
The receptionist from before waved at them as they exited onto the street.
"Nope," Namjoon followed Jungkook automatically, as if the other man had cast some sort of spell over him, his feet moving in direct step with the swishes of Jungkook's skirt. "Nothing important. At all."
"Ah, Hyung, next time you have free time during the day, you should call me then," Jungkook laughed, "We can get ice cream or something!"
"Ice cream?" Namjoon followed Jungkook down an alley-way, stopping before the front window of a small eatery. "In November?"
"Ice cream is one of those things that is enjoyed in all seasons," Jungkook replied sagely, gesturing to the door. "Come on, I'm about to change your life."
Namjoon laughed. "You like lamb-skewers that much?"
Before Jungkook could reply, an elderly woman rushed over to them and grabbed Jungkook's hands.
"Jungkook-ah!" She smiled, "I didn't expect to see you back so soon, you've been scarce of late! I was starting to think you stopped eating meat!"
"Ah, Ahjumma," Jungkook started, "I've been a bit busy, but I promise you, I still very much dream of your lamb-skewers every night."
The woman laughed, loud and hearty, before leading them to a small booth. "And your friend?"
"This is Namjoon-hyung," Jungkook introduced, sliding onto the seat.
Namjoon bowed. "Pleasure to meet you."
"Ah, no need to be so formal, I promise I don't bite," she patted Jungkook's cheek. "Alright, well, I'll bring you some tea, let me know when you want to order."
Namjoon smiled at Jungkook from across the table. Jungkook smiled back.
"Let me feed you for a change, Hyung," Jungkook tapped the menu, "I know this place like the back of my hand, don't worry, I'll take care of you."
Oh god. Namjoon knew he didn't mean it like that but he was going to pass out, he really was.
Jungkook ordered for them when the owner brought them their tea, steaming hot in two cups. Not thinking, Namjoon took a sip and hissed as his tongue burned on the liquid.
"Really?" Jungkook levelled a look at him, "Hyung, that was practically boiling."
"I mean, for all you know I could like to scald my tongue on hot tea," Namjoon retorted through his thick tongue, not believing a word that came out of his own mouth.
Jungkook scoffed, and blew on his own cup. "Sure, Hyung. Sure."