Chapter Text
Age is just a number, a state of mind. If you feel old at heart, you’ll feel old in your body. Blah blah blah.
The truth was that Namjoon had just turned 31 (thirty-one) and every morning, looking in the mirror, he noticed at least five new gray hairs. BigHit had just debuted a group of boys whose youngest member was born in 2009. In 2009, darn it! Namjoon was already writing his own lyrics and had started rapping with his friends back then.
Thirty-one isn’t much in the grand scheme of things, but it’s still a lot.
He realized this scrolling through Instagram Reels -apparently, they were a thing, introduced to him by his younger comrades- and about half the time, he didn’t understand the memes. Or when he found himself unable to play video games for hours on end like he used to as a kid. Not to mention his joints, which often made horrible, unsettling sounds.
But Namjoon was a poet, a philosopher, fully aware that growing old was a privilege not everyone was granted. He was becoming more mature, surrounded by the people he loved and who loved him back, doing exactly what he had always wanted to do. Not bad, right?
Looking around, all he saw were people struggling to hide their age, burying it under layers of plastic and silicone, extreme treatments meant to erase years of life someone had earned with effort. Living fully leaves marks, witnesses of one's joys and sorrows. Why struggle so hard to erase them?
The real challenge wasn’t chasing the latest trendy rejuvenation treatment, but accepting your age and wearing it with pride.
The world moves on, we age, and naturally, we fall behind. There’s no stopping it. The best thing a person can do is coming to terms with the inevitable, unstoppable passing of time and embracing it, while trying to keep up with the times, yet aware that it isn’t always possible.
Still, it was true that on the eve of his thirty-first birthday, he felt a strange itch, a sensation: he needed to change something. Among all the members, he was probably the one who’d changed the most over the years: outrageous hairstyles, every color imaginable, different styles of clothes.
Maybe those last years spent in a military uniform and with a bowl cut were to blame for why the day before he found himself in the Hybe hairdresser’s chair, getting his hair cut short and dyed blond. After all, he’d seen the comments on social media: blonde suited him, everyone liked it. Why not please his fans?
That morning, he woke up, checked social media as usual -everyone seemed genuinely to like his new hair- and replied to some birthday messages. Mostly, though, he had spent the night reading fans’ letters, which every year offered words he didn’t feel he deserved. At one point, he even got emotional.
The love they received was overwhelming at times, a double-edged sword, yet it was what warmed their hearts the most and gave them the strength to keep going and going.
When his eyes started burning in front of his phone screen, Namjoon decided to get dressed and head to Hybe, ready to face the day as if it were any other day. 2026 was approaching, the pressure was rising and the greatest album in history wasn’t going to write itself. He was joking, of course. Maybe.
What better way to get his brain working than by activating his body first? The gym inside Hybe was a blessing, perhaps the thing he enjoyed most there. It was literally two doors down from his studio, used only by people he knew and he could choose the music whenever and however he wanted! His own personal paradise.
“Hey blondie,” Seokjin exclaimed, appearing unexpectedly next to his treadmill in all his glory.
“Hyung!” Namjoon greeted him enthusiastically, happy to see his hyung again after a few days of busy schedules that kept them apart.
Namjoon frantically pressed the buttons, anxiously waiting for the treadmill to finally stop so he could properly greet Seokjin.
Seokjin was a millionaire with a walk-in closet bigger than the average Korean house, filled with clothes gifted from every luxury brand around the world. Yet, he habitually wore the same few items. When something was comfortable, he wore it again and again until it inevitably wore out. His legendary holographic purple Louis Vuitton slides had recently been replaced by black Birkenstocks, the ones he had on at that moment. On top, he wore his now-signature white Gucci t-shirt. With his hair falling over his forehead and a smile plastered across his face, he was the most adorable person Namjoon had ever seen.
“Hyung,” Namjoon repeated, finally throwing himself into his arms, ignoring the fact that he’d been sweating for the last twenty minutes running.
“Couldn’t you wait until I finished working out? I’m all sweaty,” he complained, breathing in Seokjin's scent. Oh, how much he had missed him.
“You’re shirtless, sweaty and running. So why exactly should I have waited?” Seokjin asked, pushing him gently away with his hands on his shoulders, giving him a curious look.
“Are you objectifying me?” Namjoon scolded, raising an eyebrow.
“Absolutely not,” he replied with a smile, placing a hand on Namjoon’s cheek and bringing his face closer. “Happy birthday,” he whispered, then gave him a tender kiss on the lips.
“So disgusting, indeed,” Seokjin complained in an exaggerated tone, touching and patting his shoulders and his biceps, all covered in sweat.
“Do I have to find out from Instagram that you cut your hair? And the blonde?! Is it your birthday or mine?!” Seokjin scolded him, pouting in a ridiculously funny way. Namjoon looked at him and burst out laughing, his heart full of love and affection for his hyung.
“And you? Even Jungkook wished me happy birthday before you and he’s on another continent!” Namjoon teased, pretending to be offended.
“Yah, I’ve spent the last few days on five different sets. Sometimes I didn’t even know what time it was. I’m a very busy superstar, you know?”
“Oh, I know, Kim Seokjin of BTS,” Namjoon nodded, unable to resist kissing him again.
If any of the younger boys had walked in at that moment, they’d probably have been forever scarred, but neither of them seemed to care much. Let them watch.
“Do you realize when I first saw you, you were seventeen, and now you’re thirty-one?”
“You’re thirty-three, hyung,” Namjoon pointed out defensively.
“And I don’t have a single gray hair, unlike you,” Jin boasted proudly, framing his face with his hands in what was supposed to be a cute pose.
“The hair dye you use every two weeks might beg to differ...”
“Yah, lower your voice! No one can know, or I might lose my aura of eternal, untouchable, timeless beauty!” Seokjin scolded him, playfully hitting his arm.
Namjoon laughed loudly, still amazed at how Seokjin never changed. He was the same old Seokjin, his Seokjin hyung.
“Anyway, notice anything?” the elder asked, putting his hands in front of Namjoon’s eyes and moving them around.
“You mean the bracelets? I get that you are a brand ambassador, but don’t you think it’s a bit much to wear diamond bracelets to the gym?”
“There’s no wrong occasion to wear diamonds,” Seokjin replied with an exaggerated dramatic sigh. “But besides the diamonds, do you see anything else?” he insisted, waving his hand repeatedly in front of Namjoon’s eyes.
For a moment, just a second, Namjoon was captivated by his hands, which were honestly one of the things he loved most about him. But he snapped out of it before he could start drooling and risk embarrassing himself for good.
“The rings? You’re disgustingly rich, you know that?” Namjoon teased, whistling. Seokjin rolled his eyes in exasperation.
“First of all, you spent a million dollars on a piece of glass. A. Million. Dollars,” Jin defended himself, throwing his artistic expenses back at Namjoon.
“It’s not a piece of glass, it’s a- okay, never mind. Second point?” Namjoon pressed, sounding resigned.
“And secondly, I bought these rings with my own money, they weren’t gifts, you know?”
“You liked them that much?”
“Namjoon-ah,” Jin sighed again. “They’re two rings. One pink, one silver,” he insisted.
“I see that, they look great on you. Though, in my personal taste, the pink suits you more-”
“One is for you, idiot!” Seokjin cut him off, now visibly annoyed.
Namjoon stopped talking, staring at him, caught off guard. What?
“What?”
“These rings represent strength and resilience. The will to push beyond limits. As soon as they explained that to me, the first person I thought of was you.”
“Me?”
“You, Namjoon-ah. You’re the most resilient person I know. I’ve seen you fall and get back up countless times over the years. Sometimes I look back on everything you’ve been through and wonder how you can be the person you are today,” Jin confessed sincerely. “In a good way! I mean... you’re my favorite person, you know?" he seemed to be struggling with his words and Namjoon found him endearing.
"What I meant was, I don’t know how you can be so caring, kind and good after everything you’ve had to face,” Seokjin clarified, squeezing his hand. Namjoon felt the ring on Jin’s finger burn against his skin.
“Hyung, do you really want to make me cry half-naked in the gym?” Namjoon complained, quickly wiping away the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.
“Oh, you have no idea,” Jin threatened.
“Last year, for the first time, I didn’t spend your birthday with you. Your thirtieth birthday. And that will haunt me for life. So I thought, why not make thirty-one the new thirty?”
He had tried to use humor to make a joke and keep his true emotions from showing too much, but the resentment toward himself and the bitterness were obvious to Namjoon, who by now knew him better than anyone else.
“We agreed to let the past go,” Namjoon scolded him.
“I know, but sometimes I just can’t.”
“Anyway, I wore this ring during my tour,” Jin continued, pointing to the silver ring and trying not to keep his voice steady.
“Really?”
“What?” Seokjin exclaimed, a mix of shock and disbelief in his voice. “You didn’t watch the videos of my concerts over and over, thinking about how much you missed me?” he asked, half-offended.
“Of course I did, but your shoulders and those ridiculously tight tank tops distracted me from the other details,” Namjoon admitted, scratching the back of his neck, guilty.
“Who’s objectifying who now?” Seokjin asked triumphantly. Still, could anyone really blame Namjoon?
“Anyway, you’re ruining my romantic story.”
“Sorry, go on,” Namjoon apologized, bowing his head and signaling him to continue.
“Actually, I bought both rings before the tour, but I decided I was going to wear the one I would give you during my concerts. It was a tough, rushed tour, I barely had time to sleep or eat. But surrounding myself with things that reminded me of you helped me so much. I know it sounds silly, but... having the blue microphone, wearing your ring... just little things that gave me strength, you know? So I decided to wear it myself first, then give it to you,” he concluded, his ears red, a clear sign of his embarrassment. Adorable.
“Did thinking of me really help you that much?” Namjoon asked incredulously, gently covering Seokjin’s ears with his hands to give them a break, smiling with teary eyes. Seokjin’s eyes were just as shiny.
“You have no idea how much strength you give to those around you. How much inspiration others draw from your words, your art and simply the way you are. For me, for the members, and for anyone who knows you, directly or indirectly. Sometimes I think about how much I admire you, how much love I have for you and it genuinely makes me want to cry because it hurts.”
“Last year, I wanted to call you, hear your voice, and reassure you because I knew how afraid you were to turn thirty. But I didn’t, yet here you are, whole and calm, a peace I secretly wished for you for years. And you made it all happen on your own, again. That’s why I admire you so much.”
By now, Seokjin was crying, and no matter how hard he tried to hold it back, tears inevitably streamed down his face, making him even more dramatically beautiful. A breathtaking painting, an unattainable beauty Namjoon had long felt unworthy of. But now, things had changed, and he knew both of them deserved each other’s love, no ifs, ands, or buts.
“Hyung, you-” Namjoon couldn’t find the words, which didn’t happen often, so he simply hugged his hyung and stroked his back to comfort him.
“You’re wrong, you know? When you say I did it all on my own, you’re wrong. Because you’re the one who changed me and keeps changing me, even now. Loving you makes me want to improve myself, to be better, for you. It’s always been that way, from day one. And I wish you’d stop once and for all thinking about what happened over these past years. How many times have I hurt you? How many times did I disappoint you when we were younger and I was just an idiot who didn’t understand my feelings and those of the people around me? I’ve hurt you so many times I wouldn’t have a lifetime to recount them all. Yet here you are, here we are. Because you forgave me, just as I forgave you. If I was ever angry, I can't even remember.”
Seokjin hugged him again, squeezing him almost to death. A pretty good way to die, Namjoon thought happily.
“You should wear it, you know?” Jin whispered in his ear.
“I know,” Namjoon nodded, burying his face in his shoulder with no intention of letting go.
“We’re in a gym crying. I’m half-naked and you’re wearing Birkenstocks and diamond bracelets. From the outside, this must look like a crazy scene,” Namjoon laughed, feeling Seokjin’s chest vibrate with his.
“It will get worse” Seokjin replied, almost mysteriously and suggestively. Namjoon had no clue what he was hinting at.
“Who cares,” Namjoon answered honestly, breaking the hug and taking Jin’s hand with the silver ring. He gently slipped it off and looked at it, thinking how much it must have cost.
Automatically, he raised the middle finger of his right hand and tried to put the ring on it, but it was clearly too small.
“Did you get the right size, hyung?” Namjoon asked, looking at him. Seokjin’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard, then he smiled, almost sharply.
“It fits perfectly, trust me.”
“But it doesn’t even go on my index finger. Well, it does, but then you’d have to cut off my finger,” he said, showing the ring that wouldn’t pass beyond a knuckle.
“That’s not an option, you’re an idol, Namjoon-ah,” Jin pointed out seriously, as if he had truly considered cutting his finger off. Namjoon looked at him, a mix of confusion and amusement.
“It’s too big for my pinky!” Namjoon complained, sighing.
Seokjin was staring at him, as if waiting for something, which only made Namjoon more confused. Why was he looking at him like that, with expectation?
“Oh, it fits!” Namjoon exclaimed, finally slipping the diamond ring onto his right hand’s ring finger.
“You should wear it on your left hand; it’s more practical. You’re more likely to knock it on the right,” Seokjin gently suggested.
“You’re right, hyung!” Namjoon said, smiling gratefully. Clumsy as he was, that was definitely a possibility.
Namjoon looked at his hand, noticing how bright the ring looked on his left ring finger. The silver matched his honey-toned skin well. It was a beautiful ring, even though he didn’t usually wear that kind of jewelry every day. But it was Jin hyung’s, so maybe he’d start now.
After admiring his new ring for a while, he realized Seokjin had gone silent. He was just staring at him, without saying a word.
“Namjoon-ah, do I have to write it down for you?” Jin asked, almost annoyed.
“Write it down? Write what?”
It was obvious Namjoon wasn’t understanding something that Seokjin clearly had, but what exactly, he didn’t know. Maybe there was an inscription on the ring?
“Hyung, but if I wear it on my left hand, people might think that-oh,” Namjoon suddenly cut himself off, mouth forming an ‘O’ and eyes wide, fixed on his new ring.
Seokjin looked at him with narrowed eyes, as if to say, Got it? You get it now, right?!
“Hyung.”
Namjoon felt a weight settle on his shoulders, and at the same time, he felt like he was soaring, ready to drift away into space. His heart froze and raced all at once, defying science. A flutter stirred in his stomach, a burning excitement that made his whole body tingle. He didn't know whether to sit down or throw up first.
“Hyung."
That was all he could say. Hyung. His thoughts had completely frozen, making it impossible to form a sentence longer than one word. Had he truly understood what was really happening, or was his mind completely misreading the situation? And why was Jin looking at him like that, as if waiting for Namjoon to recover and say the right thing?
“Use your words, Namjoon-ie,” Seokjin encouraged him, finally showing a shy smile and looking at him with glistening eyes.
Namjoon was spellbound for a moment, unable to believe what was happening.
“Hyung, this... this is... is it what I think it is?” he asked, his voice trembling with fear but also hope.
“I don’t know. What do you think it is?” Jin challenged.
“The one who gives the ring makes the first move,” Namjoon pointed out, petty.
Seokjin sighed, clearly amused by the situation.
“Kim Namjoon, you won me over with your huge ridiculous sunglasses and those flamboyant hairstyles, and since then there hasn’t been a single day in the last fourteen years when I haven’t thought about you and loved you. Would you make me the happiest person alive and marry me?” Seokjin asked, literally kneeling before him and taking the hand Namjoon was holding the ring with.
Namjoon looked at him, kneelt before him, eyes full of love and trust, the same that was probably shining in his own eyes. In that moment, he wished he could go back in time and tell the Namjoon and Seokjin of the past. Surely the 2011 Namjoon, who had just met Seokjin and found him annoying, would never have imagined ending up in this position.
The most beautiful, funny, spontaneous, selfless and wonderful man had really knelt before him to ask him to marry him?
“Namjoon-ie hyung, haappy b-birth-” Jimin’s voice broke off when he walked into the gym and saw the scene before him.
Namjoon looked at Jimin, then Seokjin, who didn’t move, then back at Jimin, who looked like he had just witnessed something both terrifying and exhilarating at once. He seemed stunned.
“Is this what I think it is?” Jimin asked in a barely audible voice, pale as a ghost. It was objectively hilarious and Namjoon might have laughed if the love of his life hadn’t just gotten down on one knee to ask him to become his husband.
“Oh my God, fuck,” Jimin panicked, frozen, unable to look away from his two friends. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, thank fuck God,” he kept swearing, then turned his head slightly and screamed, “TAEHYUNG-AH, COME HERE. NOW!!!” at the top of his lungs. They probably heard him all the way in Thailand.
In less than two seconds, Taehyung rushed into the gym, running, his plastic sandals slapping loudly against the floor. Behind him appeared Yoongi, breathless, clearly having run with Taehyung.
“Jimin-ah, are you okay? Did you get hur-” Taehyung had the same reaction as Jimin, falling silent at the scene, turning as pale as the other.
“Jimin-ah, if you have a heart attack now, you won’t be able to make it to the wedding, you know?” Yoongi teased, making Taehyung laugh with an almost hysterical giggle.
“Oh my God, this is hilarious! Namjoon-ie hyung, you should see your face!” Taehyung said, bursting into uncontrollable laughter that spread to everyone present.
After five minutes of laughter and tears, they tried to compose themselves. Jin’s knee had probably turned purple by now.
“I’m at an age and my knee is screaming for help,” Seokjin remarked, bringing Namjoon back to reality. He still owed him an answer.
“Hyung, you can’t say yes without setting conditions!”
“Like what, Jimin-ah?” Namjoon asked, curious, still watching Jin’s annoyed face.
“Like you’ll take care of the house decor, or else you’ll end up living in a house that looks like a hospital because everything it’s so white.”
He was actually right. Seokjin’s all-white, impersonal décor was often mocked by the members.
“You can’t go wrong with white, it’s simple and always a classic," Seokjin defended his own house. "However, fine by me. Who even likes decorating, anyway?”
“I do.”
“Me.”
Yoongi and Namjoon answered in unison.
“Nerds,” Seokjin teased them.
“Any other demands?” Jin insisted.
“I’ll handle the wedding’s aesthetics. The location, the décor, the flowers! And your outfits have to get my approval,” Jimin added, with a tone that made it clear he wouldn’t accept anything less.
“My venue idea is Disneyland or something, so... have fun!”
“Are these conditions meant to serve your interests or mine? What do I gain?” Namjoon complained, incredulous.
“Do you have any idea how much we’ve suffered over the years? The biggest slow-burn, best friends to lovers, denial-of-feelings relationship ever! You owe us!”
“The what?!” Seokjin finally turned to him, looking utterly confused. He hadn’t understood a word.
“That’s his way of saying it took us forever to get here,” Namjoon explained briefly, fond of his friends.
“He’s right. Permission granted. Any more requests?”
“Of course.”
“Again?!” Jin groaned, exhausted.
“Please never stop loving each other, understood? When I say never, I mean never! I want to see you both with dentures and receding hairlines, still together and stupidly in love.”
“Receding hairline? ME? How dare you?!” Seokjin exclaimed, visibly offended.
“You’ll still be sexy, you know? The most handsome balding guy in all of Korea.”
“In the world, Namjoon-ah, in the world!” Jin corrected him.
“Hyung, yes, I want to marry you.”
Namjoon said those words with an ease and confidence he probably never had before. Only he knew how much he had fought against himself and the world to reach that moment, to accept Seokjin’s love and give it back to him. He’d battled everything he’d ever believed, destroyed himself, then put the pieces back together until he found a shape he liked. All to get to this moment, in this position.
Seokjin smiled and threw himself on top of him, knocking him to the floor. Neither of them cared as they began kissing through tears and laughter. The others were laughing and crying too, surely filling their phones with photos they would pull out at every occasion. But Namjoon and Seokjin could only think about spending the rest of their lives together, with their friends, reminiscing, teasing, and laughing about the past together.
“Hyung! You have no idea what just happened!” Jimin exclaimed on the phone.
“Jungkook-ie, they’re getting married! Namjoon-ie and hyung are getting married!” Taehyung shouted on the phone.
They had both video-called the two missing members, pointing the camera at the two, who were clearly ignoring everything except each other.
“Namjoon-ah, I told you the Instagram photo would be misunderstood,” Seokjin complained that evening, as they sat on the couch after a long day.
Namjoon leaned on Jin’s shoulder, still staring at his ring in disbelief at what had happened. They hadn’t told anyone yet, but messages and calls from their families had already arrived, having seen the news. Articles about Jin from BTS giving RM a diamond ring for his birthday. Very ambiguous.
They’d both decided to ignore their families and friends for that day, enjoying their bubble of love and joy.
The two of them hadn’t even decided yet whether they would celebrate their wedding in Korea or abroad. In their country, it was of course impossible to legally get married, but neither of them needed anything more than each other’s words and the presence of their loved ones to make it official. Nothing an officiant or a piece of paper could ever give them.
“Do you think anyone believed the story about the ring size?”
“I did,” Namjoon defended himself.
“Honestly, you’re the most oblivious person I know,” Jin pointed out. “And that I’m not gonna marry, I’m not married? How dare you?’” he scolded.
“I didn’t think anyone would actually speculate about it... Don’t look at me like that, we’re not a couple that people gossip about. We barely interact in public, these days. I didn’t think it would cause such a stir.”
“People don't gossip about us? Sure, honey farmer.”
“What?”
“Never mind,” Jin concluded, shaking his head.