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Before they enlisted, he and Jimin got really close again.
Namjoon went through phases with the members, closer to some at times than others, but this had felt different. He'd let Jimin see him during their album exchange, all the messy, untidy parts of himself that he'd tried to keep buried, and Jimin had done what he'd always done: listened, empathized, and categorically rejected any of his attempts to shit-talk himself. He felt wrung out and over-exposed afterwards, but it was hard to care, really, when Jimin wormed his way under Namjoon's arm and snuggled against his side. He'd missed this; Jimin had an easy way of demanding physical affection that Namjoon wanted to give but struggled to offer, even all these years later.
Jimin said, "You can tell me, hyung, when you're going through a hard time. You know that, right?"
The words still didn't come easily, but Namjoon tried. It was all he could do, really. "Yeah," he managed to say, his voice gravelly and rough, the way it got when he was tired. "You too, you know?"
"I know," Jimin said with that quiet self-assurance that still felt new, and Namjoon pressed his cheek against the soft slide of Jimin's hair, and closed his eyes.
The astonishing thing was: Jimin really did what he said he would. Namjoon wouldn't call it outright complaining, but Jimin did let him know that, actually, being shoved back into a gender binary box sucked. Never in the group chat—there, Jimin dutifully gave them updates on Jungkook, who rarely stirred himself to respond to messages even under normal circumstances, and assured them all that they were both staying healthy, and doing their best.
So when their first vacation days overlapped, Namjoon glutted himself on art, and then stole Jimin away the second he could. Namjoon plied him with his favorite takeout, and soju, and cocooned him on his sofa in the throw blanket Jimin liked best. Jimin was still wearing a bucket hat, even indoors, and with earrings on, it was almost like he'd never been forced to shave his head.
Namjoon had a feeling that almost might be the worst part of this.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Namjoon said eventually.
Jimin sighed. "Not really," he admitted. "But I think I should."
"Are you talking to anyone else about it?" Namjoon asked. He would back down, if Jimin was.
"Just you," Jimin said. "Who else could I tell, hyung?"
Anyone, Namjoon wanted to say. Any one of the people who loved him. But he shut his mouth and tried his best to listen.
"You know what it's like," Jimin continued softly. "When something is just—bad, and you just have to get through it."
Terribly, Namjoon did know. They all knew, to some extent, but yeah, Namjoon felt intensely where Jimin was coming from.
"You can't be yourself right now," Namjoon reflected back. "That's tough, no matter what."
"Yes, exactly," Jimin said with a sigh. "I knew you'd get it."
Namjoon was still fundamentally not great at this, but he coaxed Jimin closer, and then Jimin was just…mostly on his lap. Which was fine. Jimin had hung all over him at one point or another during the twelve years they've known each other. This wasn't particularly novel, and it shouldn't have felt different.
But it did. He was conscious of the weight of Jimin on his thighs, the way his hand fit into the dip of Jimin's lower back. Jimin rested his head against Namjoon's shoulder, and it felt like he belonged there, in Namjoon's arms.
"This helps," Jimin said quietly, his breath tickling Namjoon's neck.
"Okay," Namjoon said, and dared to pull Jimin even closer.
The monotony of it all was really starting to get to Namjoon, but he didn't feel like he wanted to talk about it in the group chat just yet. Boredom came with the territory; Seokjin had warned them all about it early on in his service.
But Jimin, though—Jimin, he could tell.
There aren't enough books, he messaged to Jimin one evening in despair, during his limited phone time.
Not the way you go through them, no, Jimin responded.
A few days later, he got a big care package from his family. He wasn't expecting another one so soon, but when he opened it, there was a note:
A little bird suggested you might appreciate these.
It was a stack of books: philosophy and linguistics and also the latest release in a mystery series he was basically hate-reading at this point but was still addicted to. It wasn't that his family hadn't sent him books before, but they were ones he'd requested. These, though—these were chosen for him, by someone who knew what he liked.
He thanked Jimin effusively over text.
How did you know it was me? Jimin asked. Maybe there's some other bird in the world, hyung, who knows what you want.
There's only you, Namjoon texted back immediately, and then squeezed his eyes shut in consternation. He couldn't find it in himself to take it back, though.
Jimin sent back a blushy face emoji, and Namjoon stared at his phone screen.
And then, like his fingers were possessed, he typed out, I want to do something nice for you, too.
How nice?
Really nice, Namjoon sent. And then he drew a blank, because what did Jimin want? What did Jimin want that Namjoon could give him, right now? He drew in a breath. Maybe you'd like to give hyung a hint, though. So I don't mess it up.
You could never, Jimin replied simply, and Namjoon's heart stuttered.
With Jimin, it really was the thought that counted, which should theoretically take all the stress out of this, except.
Except that he really wanted to make Jimin happy.
One hint. Hyung is begging, he messaged desperately.
I like anything, if it's with you.
Namjoon dropped his phone on his face, which he was fairly sure was already red.
Namjoon had given Jimin any number of gifts over the years, including some very expensive, custom jewelry. But the material gifts dropped off once they all had more money than anyone knew what to do with. The things that Jimin wanted now were harder to give: freedom of expression, privacy, a semblance of a normal life.
But Namjoon could try. There was some delicate negotiation over the next vacation days they requested, and then waiting for them to be approved. Once they were, Namjoon asked for an entire evening of Jimin's time.
What did you have in mind? Jimin asked, after agreeing immediately.
I promised you something really nice, didn't I?
Namjoon still wasn't sure that his plan qualified as such, but he set his rarely used dining table and added a couple of candles. He still wasn't much of a cook, but he had a couple of semi-respectable date night dinners he could make, and tonight's pasta both looked and tasted pretty good. And after that, he thought—maybe a walk, if it wasn't too cold. But if Jimin preferred to stay in, they could watch a movie.
He was trying very hard not to think about Jimin in his lap again, with minimal success.
And just when he'd convinced himself that he'd misread everything, that this wasn't what he hoped it was, Jimin arrived. Not on time, but only ten minutes late, which for Jimin represented a genuine effort.
And he looked gorgeous, and happier in his own skin than Namjoon had seen him look since December. He had on some dangly earrings that Namjoon hadn't seen him wear in a while, and a few delicate bracelets on his wrist, and his makeup was soft and very pretty. Namjoon was deeply, deeply grateful that he had dressed up, too, that he hadn't read this wrong, after all.
"Hi, hyung," Jimin said softly, and that was when Namjoon realized he was just staring at him while they were still in the entryway, and then fell all over himself to invite Jimin in.
He saw Jimin's eyebrows go up at the dining table. Were the candles too much? But Jimin didn't say anything, he just took a seat, a soft smile playing at the corner of his lips.
He found himself a little nervous, which was ridiculous, because he'd known Jimin for going on twelve years. There shouldn't be any mystery left; there shouldn't be any new ground to cover. Jimin was a known and loved quantity, and yet he found himself being distracted by the way Jimin's eyes closed when he laughed, and the way his throat moved when he took a sip of wine.
But the food was good, and the conversation was better, and by all objective measures, this was a good date.
Good enough that when Jimin vetoed a walk in favor of being cozy on the sofa, Namjoon knew he was going to have to find his courage, or he was going to just keep chasing his tail the whole night.
And then, Jimin sat next to him on the couch—right next to him, and said, "Hyung."
"Yeah?" Namjoon said, a little dazed, a little unsure where to put his arm, which was sort of awkwardly half behind Jimin's back.
"This was a date, right?"
"Yeah," Namjoon said. "I mean. I hope? I wanted to take you on a date. Like an ordinary date. Not that I felt like this was ordinary, emotionally speaking, but in terms of like a social construct—"
Jimin's eyes just got wider.
"—and anyway, I want you to have things like this. Ordinary things. If you want them, you know? You said you'd like anything if it was with me, but if you've changed your mind, or this isn't what you wanted—"
"Hyung," Jimin said firmly.
Namjoon shut his mouth.
"It's been a very nice date," Jimin said, looking up at him, and wow, putting one of his small hands on Namjoon's thigh. Which again, was not new, but the idea that Jimin was interested in maybe sliding his hand up Namjoon's thigh was. "I'd like to do this again."
"Oh," Namjoon said, half-wheezing in relief. "Me too."
"I'd like to do this a lot, actually. Whenever we can."
"Great," Namjoon said faintly. "Yes. Totally on board."
Jimin looked up through his lashes. He was so fucking pretty, it was unbelievable. "I might like another ordinary thing with you. Not that I think it's ordinary, at least emotionally speaking."
"You're making fun of me and I still want to kiss you so bad," Namjoon whined.
Jimin laughed lightly, and leaned in, and then it was the easiest thing in the world, to kiss him, to learn something new after all this time.
This was how they were going to make it through: texts during their phone time. More books from Jimin, by way of his parents. Encouraging Jimin to write, and share what he wanted. Planning more ordinary dates together, when they could swing the time off. It was something to look forward to, and made the time left seem a lot more bearable.
The first time Jimin sent him a picture of his ass in some really cute panties with no warning, though, Namjoon almost fell off his bunk.
When he recovered, and looked at the picture again, and then some more, he texted, Hey honey, remember when you told me I could tell you if I was going through a hard time?
Oh, tell me more, Jimin texted back with a kissy face emoji. And then, because he was kind of fundamentally evil, a peach emoji, followed by water droplets.
"Fuck, I love him," Namjoon muttered to himself, and then sent a tongue emoji in reply before getting down to the very serious business of telling Jimin all about the trials and tribulations he was going through because of Jimin's everything, and how they could both make it better together.