Chapter Text
“Hey Joonie, did you eat lunch?” came a disappointed voice.
Namjoon blinked owlishly behind his spectacles, turning slowly towards the two men whom he hadn’t heard enter, he’d been so absorbed with his work. Yoongi thought he looked like an ancient turtle, all gradual movements and a wise face. He was obviously taking a moment to compute the question. Hoseok could practically hear the cogs turning. Yoongi counted the empty coffee cups littering his desk and did a quick calculation.
“…or breakfast?” ventured Yoongi.
“…yeah lunch…”
“Yes Joonie, LUNCH.” screeched Hoseok.
“Oh right yeah,” the man got up as if in a trance, slightly hunched in his massive hoodie, sweater paws dangling, “I’ll go heat up some ramen or something.”
“No you will not go heat up some ramen. How old are you, Joon?” frowned Hoseok.
“…I’m 25 hyung.”
“You’re 25, exactly, you’re an adult now. You need to start taking care of yourself! Now you’re going to have a real meal because it’s dinner time.”
“I’m sorry hyung.”
“We all have well paying jobs, we’re not students anymore. I know you’re working really hard on this and your deadline’s coming up…but this isn’t healthy. It’s time to be a grown-up now, seriously.”
“You’re right Hobi, you’re right…I’m sorry. I just lost track of time…”
“I don’t get it Joonie-bug, you love food.”
“Yes, but I hate cooking,” he moaned and Hoseok found himself feeling even more annoyed by the fact that his weedly, childish behaviour was outrageously adorable.
“Sit down Joon,” huffed Yoongi, only slightly exasperated, pushing the sweater-clad zombie-man-child back in to his computer chair, “I’m going to order us take-out.”
“You’re an angel hyung.”
“Pfsh. We all know that’s not true.”
***
It was an unusual living situation; Namjoon would be the first to admit it. He, Yoongi and Hoseok had all been best friends since high school and despite doing different degrees at university had decided to room together. They had all only became closer as time went on. Especially Yoongi and Hoseok. It had been oh so painfully obvious that the two idiots were madly in love and everyone who knew them had groaned with relief when they finally got together. Namjoon was truly happy for them, they were a wonderful couple and he naturally assumed he’d move out, but somehow it’d never happened…
Any time he brought it up, Yoongi would refuse to speak to him and Hoseok would alternate between clinging to him and hitting him. So, for the moment, it looked like he was staying. Besides, he loved them dearly and Seoul wasn’t a cheap city, even if he did finally have enough to get a decent place of his own. But Yoongi and Hoseok were discreet. Their place was also spacious and doted with mercifully thick walls.
Hoseok ran his own dance studio and was beginning to really make a name for himself, even choreographing routines for successful k-pop artists. Yoongi still rapped and made his own music from time to time, but word was getting out that he was the man you wanted to produce your record.
As for Namjoon, he was an English to Korean translator. He also wrote poetry on the side. Work had been tough at first and he wasn’t making much. His parents were disappointed with his career choice, pushing him to become a doctor or the next Steve Jobs. “Why waste that brain of yours on a literature degree?” they’d chastise. But when he got the gig that every translator dreams of – translating a book that becomes both a bestseller and a series - that’s when the money started coming in and his parents shut up. That’s also when the deadlines began to get tighter.
But Namjoon didn’t do it for the paycheques. He loved his job, he genuinely did. He adored how he didn’t notice the hours fly by as he got invested in the characters and story, crafting sentences that would be both beautiful but loyal to the author’s text, puzzling over the best way to describe something. What he cherished most of all was the fact that he was creating a gateway to art that would otherwise be inaccessible for a large number of people.
Yet, he was the first to admit that it didn’t really give his life much structure. He was free to not leave the house if he so chose, to dress himself in what Hoseok dubbed his “comfy gremlin gear”, to work until the wee hours of the morning and sleep in until the afternoon.
It wasn’t any way to live, Hoseok was right. No wonder they both didn’t want him to move out, they thought he couldn’t survive out there. That he’d set the kitchen on fire or forget to feed himself. They thought he was a pity case.
He needed to turn things around. Not to mention that his porn consumption was steadily going up…sure he was a healthy young man and that was probably normal, but he had to admit that he was beginning to feel lonely. He needed to find someone. But who would want to be with a lanky, socially awkward, 25 year old geek who was far too obsessed with Rimbaud and didn’t know how to cook or drive?
Ok, it was really time to sort things out.
***
He tried to sneak out the house. Lord knows he tried. But his foolish, clumsy limbs had refused to obey him and he was just so nervous that he’d smacked his coffee mug to the floor with a loud crash. The smashing sound, accompanied by his swearing, roused Hobi and Yoongi who ran through to make sure he wasn’t hurt.
Instead they found him looking shifty with a…large sports bag?
“Joonie, are those drugs?” cawed Hoseok
“What?! No!!!”
“If work isn’t going well, you can tell us, don’t resort to this for cash,” said Yoongi, face stern.
“Guys seriously,” he whined.
Hoseok flapped his arms, “Joonie, it’s 9:30am on a Saturday, nobody should even be alive at this hour, let alone fully dressed and heading out the house with a gym bag. Plus you look nervous as hell. What is going on? Don’t try tell us you’re going to the gym, because we won’t buy it.”
You could have cut the silence that followed with a knife.
“…I’m going to the gym.”
“You’re fucking what?” cried Yoongi.
Namjoon’s cheeks turned the colour of their hallway rug, which was to say a deep crimson, and he addressed his following words to the aforementioned piece of carpeting.
“…I’m going…to the gym.”
“Joonie, sweetheart, you have all the muscle tone of an overcooked piece of pasta. Your entire physique is basically two strands of spaghetti tied together-”
“I KNOW HOBI! That’s why I’m going to the gym, hyung…”
“Holy fuck. He’s serious.” gawped Yoongi.
“You’ve always been ripped,” Hoseok preened and flexed at the comment, “and even Yoongi’s starting to get buff!”
It was true. Yoongi had decided a few months ago that he was fed up of being a “toothpick” as he’d described himself and had developed an impressive physique.
Hoseok tried to swallow down his shock, “…well…ok then…good for you!”
“Joon, you do realise that with your schedule you can go any time? Why are you going now when the place is likely to be riddled with awful, fuckbro gymrats and-“
“OK I’D BETTER GET GOING GUYS. SEE YOU LATER.”
Their front door slammed and the young couple stood bewildered for a few moments.
“…that was strange…”
“Wait a minute…I think he’s going at this time on purpose!”
Yoongi nodded sagely, “Yup, seems like our lil’ Joonie’s thirsty. Why didn’t he tell us?”
“Yoongi my darling, so you agree, he’s looking for a mate?”
“Hobi…why do you sound like a nature documentary narrator?”
“No, but seriously, is our Joonie trying to find love?”
Yoongi bit his lip, “…he might just be…”
“I can’t believe it. He’s actually going outside and trying to meet people like an actual functioning human…” Hoseok suddenly looked downcast, “But…but…nobody’s ever going to be good enough for our Joonie.”
“That’s why we have to supervise him, make sure we find him someone up to standards.”
“Ooh, I know! Let’s take him to that party thing that’s the end of next week! You know, the one with those producers.”
“Good idea.”
***
Great, so that went about as well as expected. He hadn’t even gotten there yet and he was already stressed and sweaty. Excellent.
Truth be told, he had no idea what he was going to do when he did actually get there. But hey, treadmills and weights couldn’t be that hard to figure out, right? Maybe his damsel in distress routine would attract some silver fox stud who’d be besotted by his naïve charm, or he’d find a fellow nerd out of his element? Oh, who was he kidding.
He’d dearly hoped the short walk there would calm him down, but judging by the gentle smile on the girl at the reception desk, it hadn’t.
“Hi, first time? Don’t be nervous.”
Namjoon tried to laugh, “That obvious?”
“It’s fine! Everyone starts somewhere.” She eyed him up and down, “How about you pay for a “Discovery Pass” for today, so you can get a feel for things, then you can see about a membership next time?” she said kindly, as if talking to a startled forest creature.
“That sounds great, thank you.”
“I’ll get you the paperwork now,” she turned, “Hey Jungkook-ssi!” A ridiculously good looking and well sculpted young man scurried over. Namjoon felt his face, which had finally cooled down, heat up once more. God damn it.
“Jungkook, will you show this gentleman around once he’s filled this out and gotten changed?”
The young man smiled and Namjoon felt his heart dissolve and trickle down through to his stomach.
“It would be my pleasure.”
***
Jungkook was ripped. Seriously, ridiculously, sexily ripped. Namjoon had never felt like such a gangly fool in all his life in his oversize t-shirt and baggy shorts. He was trying so hard to concentrate on what this beautiful man was saying and not to stare at the teasing glance of pecs, which would flash each time he moved his arms in his scanty tank top. Hell, if Namjoon had muscles like that, he’d be wearing a string vest…or screw the vest, he'd go full on, thirst-trap topless.
Once he’d finished showing him the facilities, Namjoon realised he still had no idea what to do. Jungkook must have seen this and had decided to take pity on him, as he asked,
“So why are you here Namjoon?”
“Umm, to get in shape and get some muscle really…as you can see I don’t really have much,” he chuckled awkwardly, hating the way it felt tinny on his tongue.
“Great! Motivation is key. Is it to impress your girlfriend?”
“Oh god no! Uh…I mean, umm…well I’m single at the moment and I don’t really swing that way,” he clapped his hands to his mouth. What was he babbling about in front of this hot gym dude, who so obviously didn’t care about his pathetic, non-existent love life.
“Oh cool, well, I’m also currently single,” he grinned easily “and I also don’t swing that way.”
Namjoon’s brain flooded with a mixture of distress and joy signals. Oh my god. This hot gym dude was single. Single and GAY. Could this Adonis possibly be flirting with him?! No, not possible. He was just kind and friendly. But still gay and single…Gay, single, kind, friendly and ripped…
Little did Namjoon know that Jungkook’s brain was going through a similar meltdown: Oh my god, this cute guy is gay, oh my god he’s single. Oh my god, why am I flirting with a customer? That’s so cliché. Shit. Why did I do that? I’ve never done that before. Did I come on too strong? He looks terrified right now. Damn it Jeon Jungkook you horny fool. AAAARGH.
Clearing his throat, Namjoon tried to salvage the situation, “So as you can see, I’m really lost, where should I start?”
Jungkook smiled, this was good, he could do this. This was his job.
“How about we give the cross trainer a whirl?”
***
Namjoon was curled up on his bed, feeling a little pitiful and aching everywhere. He’d discovered muscles he never even knew existed (why on earth did people work out?) but it didn’t matter. Jungkook had stayed with him the whole time, encouraging him and making him laugh as he tried not to expire on each machine he’d used. Jungkook had also offered to become his personal trainer. He was a weak man, to see those doe eyes again, he’d signed up for a membership on the spot.
They were going to meet up three times a week, Jungkook was preparing him a work-out plan. Namjoon wasn’t sure what was going to kill him first, the actual exercise or the younger man’s stupid good looks and little bunny tooth smile.
It would probably end up being a healthy mixture of both.