Work Text:
Seokjin was finally home.
Well, he was actually approximately 1200 kilometers away from their house, tucked safely away from the commotion in strong warm arms, swaying gently along to the soothing rhythm playing on the speakers some distance away, a cool sea breeze wrapping around them like a blanket of tranquility. A deep sense of relief washed all over him, and he let it. He could bask in it now, at home.
The ceremony had gone smoothly, without a hitch. And why wouldn’t it have? The venue for the spring wedding was charming yet chic, an elegant setup by the sea, you could never go wrong with that, the vows had jerked tears out of many, Seokjin included, the food had been splendid and the bar had just opened.
It’s the week leading up to the wedding that had been a long one for him. Namjoon had been away in New York for some stupid auction of his works, and to address the graduates of some godforsaken college.
Seokjin himself had wrapped up his shoot only a week before the wedding, it was hard being so successful really, and arrived in Okinawa with the rest of the gang.
Add to Namjoon's absence the 13 hours time difference and you get a slightly frazzled Seokjin.
When he had finally seen Namjoon, AT the wedding, because of course Namjoon had lost his passport in his hotel room and missed his scheduled flight, arriving early morning ON the wedding day, he had instantly felt calm and dizzy at the same time. The deep calmness brought on by simply seeing Namjoon smile at him from across a room full of people mixing with his almost violent levels of horniness that seeing Namjoon in a suit incited in him.
Namjoon rarely wore suits, what with being a world renowned artist, he had no obligations to dress prim and proper. So Seokjin's sudden urge to choke on Namjoon's cock right there in front of everyone at the wedding, over just a glimpse of Namjoon in the smart blue suit that Seokjin had picked out for him, hair slicked back, sporting a slim pair of glasses that only accentuated his sexiness, had only been justified. Besides, they hadn't seen each other for two weeks.
"Do you want to head to the bar?" Namjoon whispered against his ear, following it with a kiss.
Seokjin lifted his head up from Namjoon's shoulder to return a soft kiss on the mole under his lips, "Not yet, do you?"
"No, I'm good," Namjoon replied with a blinding smile. Seokjin startled out of his relaxed haze. Something had changed, he could tell. He could see in Namjoon's eyes that there had been more meaning in those words than Seokjin could see right now. Like their little exchange had only been Namjoon coming up for air before drowning himself in deep thought again.
"Shhh it's nothing, baby," Namjoon soothed with a warm, dimpled smile, gently stroking Seokjin's cheek with the back of his fingers, and pulled Seokjin back down to rest against his chest.
"Really?" Seokjin pouted.
Namjoon's deep laughter rumbling against his chest was all the response he got. He circled his arms tighter around Namjoon's neck, Namjoon pulling him closer by his waist. He trusted himself to be there with Namjoon, wherever he was in his head, eventually. Their seven years together had more than reassured him of the fact that they will never lose each other. It simply wasn't possible.
He giggles to himself at the memory of how it hadn't always been that way. How there was a time when they had both believed that their being together was a choice.
Seven years ago, a lifetime ago.
When Seokjin was taking up any and every acting gig that came his way, from playing an extra in ads to playing an extra in dramas. Yoongi, his roommate and best friend (although Yoongi denied such allegations, he showed his gratitude silently through his actions), had just moved out of their apartment to live with his boyfriend Hoseok. Luckily for Seokjin, Jungkook's senior at art school, a certain Kim Namjoon, broke, freshly graduated and struggling to find work too had agreed to move in with Seokjin soon.
That's where everything had started, in that small, dingy, mould infested apartment.
To this day, neither of them could pinpoint when or how their relationship had blossomed from that of distant flatmates to easy friends to being disgustingly in love, only realising how close they'd grown when their friends started gagging left and right anytime they so much as looked at each other. Fine, maybe they made heart eyes at each other from across a room, maybe Namjoon sometimes looked at him like he wanted to rail him through a wall, maybe Seokjin enabled him, so what?
He can't pinpoint when their Friday movie nights on the ratty couch turned into an excuse to sit closer and closer each week, till they were be snuggling with no space between them by November. It was cold how else were they supposed to stay warm... Turn on the heater? Please.
Or when the sad ramyeon dinners Seokjin had when he returned home tired at ungodly hours from his shoots turned into candle lit dinners for two because at some point, Namjoon had started to wait up for him, and nothing helped Seokjin unwind quite like cooking for Namjoon while bitching about his colleagues...
Or when sharing mundane banter from their workplaces gave way to a raw vulnerability and late nights spent crouching close on their little balcony, disclosing their self-doubts, revealing the dark and heavy dread they carried in their hearts of a future where they would never make it in their fields, and Seokjin seeking as much comfort in Namjoon's unwavering faith in his ability and persevearance, as much as Namjoon sought the same in Seokjin's steady support and encouragement...
Or when shy benign compliments melted into midnight confessions of passion and promises dripping from their lips onto hot skin...
Humble beginnings, he remembers how happy they had been despite having absolutely nothing, other than themselves and each other. And of course, their five idiot friends. And look at them now, they had really made it. All of them. What a relief they were all together.
He fondly, and a little bit spitefully, recalls how the spring of their second year of being "something", had been their big break.
Both their efforts had started to pay off, Seokjin had started getting more substantial roles in dramas, nothing groundbreaking yet, but he wasn't struggling anymore. Namjoon's art had caught the eyes of some local firms and he was getting commissioned for more promising and artistic projects by different studios. The following months had rekindled the the fire that had pushed them to pursue their crafts in the first place, turning any insecurity and doubts to ashes. This is what they were meant to do, this is what they had promised to commit their lives to. Young, bursting with passion and an insatiable hunger to prove themselves, to establish their place in their separate worlds, they had each blazed headfirst towards their futures.
Seokjin had always known he had a face for the screen, and through his iron determination and hard work, he had succeeded in proving he had the raw talent for it too, landing more and more significant roles with bigger production houses, that eventually started leading him to different locations too. Namjoon too had become significantly more successful, slowly outgrowing the art scene in Seoul, getting commissioned by international art houses and museums, spending ungodly hours holed up in his new studio.
Now, in hindsight, he can see clearly what had caused the rift between them. As their pride had grown right alongside their passion, their young little hearts hadn't known how to let out the steam, how to make space for other emotions, other people.
Seokjin's frequent travelling, Namjoon's frequent absence, a cold loneliness lingering in every corner of their lovely new apartment, he could go on all day about both of their faults that had lead them both to withdraw from the other.
Arguments only half-finished over phone calls and texts, resentment pent up from things they never had the energy to resolve, eventually not making any efforts to clear misunderstandings, out of fear of getting hurt by being alone in their vulnerability, each wanting to protect their own heart. It was almost funny to him now, how they couldn't tell when they had stopped trusting each other with their hearts, just like how they never found out exactly when they fell in love. Call it poetic justice.
The rare times that they were together, it had been easier to brush all their issues under the carpet and pretend everything was okay, both choosing to suffer in silence instead of confronting the other. It had been easier than admitting just how deep their love ran, just how easily and gravely they could hurt each other. This way, they had both taken one step back, then another and so on with each word they held back from each other, with each silent doubt of not having the same amount of love returned as they dished out, till they were too far away to hear the other.
How petty it is of a heart to be reluctant to love when that is all it knows how to do.
Inevitably, their frustrations with each other had started bleeding into their work. How they had not foreseen this consequence, he still didn't know. Perhaps, Yoongi from back then had been right in declaring them both to be fucking idiots, he giggled to himself.
He knows now that when work involves drawing emotions out from the very depths of one's being, it is impossible for the artist to hide. When bitterness had expanded in his chest, suffocating other emotions dead, he had to resort to faking his emotions. Even back then, he could see right through the inauthenticity of his shallow performances, and he was repulsed by it, regardless of how well received the films had been. It had hurt. It hurt to lie and to have his love and his craft slip right through his fingers.
There is no art without authenticity, and the truth was that they had both been suffering by continuing to stay by each other's side. All of it had culminated into Seokjin deciding that he was at a crossroads. It was either his career or Namjoon, he simply couldn't have both.
To this day, he's ashamed of how easily and confidently he'd made the wrong choice. Two years into their relationship, Seokjin had decided he needed to break up with Namjoon.
On the rare occasions that they had dinner together on the couch, he could see in Namjoon's eyes that he had come down the same path as him and was slowly catching up to Seokjin. It was reflected in the emptiness of his eyes every time he looked at Seokjin, without seeing him, when he kissed him goodnight like he owed it to Seokjin, like he took pity on Seokjin.
Later that month, Seokjin had been surprised when Namjoon had agreed to visit his family for Christmas dinner. He had only asked out of courtesy. Perhaps Namjoon had also agreed as one last courtesy. He had decided then that that would be the night he would break it to Namjoon. There was no use letting this drag on longer than necessary.
That had been a night Seokjin would probably never forget, no matter what follows in his life.
Christmas dinner had gone pleasantly, he had been glad that they could still be easy friends. But apparently, it had been glaringly obvious that something had shifted between them.
"Seokjinnie, what do you think you're doing?" his brother's fiance, Jieun, had asked him, they were walking a little bit ahead of his brother and Namjoon, having come out on a stroll to see the Christmas lights in the city after a scrumptious dinner.
"Huh?" He knew what she was alluding to, he was hoping he was wrong.
"Are you guys fighting? What are you afraid of?" Ever so perceptive and straight to the point, as always. He felt closer to Jieun than he did to his brother sometimes. She often reminded him of Yoongi, wise, patient and a person of few but heavy words.
"I- nothing, it's just... I just need to focus on my career. It's not working out," he had replied, looking at the pavement. He thought the fact that he had felt nothing when he declared that was further evidence that the love that had blossomed between them had long since wilted and was rotting away in a corner of their hearts.
"I've seen you through every heartbreak since high school, Seokjin, and I've seen the way you both glowed next to each other. For you to cut him off like this, you must believe he would willingly break your heart. Do you?"
He remembers how he'd felt colder than he'd ever felt in his life, despite his thick parka, despite Namjoon's beanie over his ears. It was a chill that emanated from his frozen heart. When had he become so selfish that he'd lied to himself about Namjoon, made himself believe that Namjoon was anything like the line of his shitty exes? Seokjin gulped around the lump forming in his throat. How had he forgotten how gentle Namjoon had been with his heart, with him?
The way Namjoon had made a space in his heart for Seokjin, where Seokjin could be his soft, delicate self without it being mistaken for weakness; how he could be himself around Namjoon without constantly doubting if he was being too little or too much, unlike any of his past relationships.
Memories pierced his cold heart like a shards of glass.
The first time Namjoon had looked at him, and he knew Namjoon was seeing him the way Seokjin sees himself, as only Seokjin, not as an empty vase waiting to be filled, only a vase beautiful and delicate on its own. It was scary to be so vulnerable, to be read like an open book, but god had it been a relief to finally be seen as exactly what he was. A beautiful vase that, over the years, had become laced with cracks from being filled to the brim with volumes he couldn't hold, that he didn't want to hold, he was never incomplete by himself, and Namjoon was the one that had made him realise it. For every flaw Seokjin saw in himself, Namjoon's eyes only reflected endless and tender affection, filling up his cracks with his golden tenacious love, holding together all his different pieces in perfect harmony.
The first time Namjoon had kissed him, shyly at first, and then completely taken over Seokjin all at once, and Seokjin had let him. He wanted Namjoon to take over him, he wanted to give Namjoon everything he had.
When had Seokjin become so selfish that he wouldn't even give Namjoon his heart?
He had tasted heartbreak, jealousy, insecurity, and betrayal. Each time he had learnt the same lesson, to look after himself because nobody else will. And now he had gone and pushed away the one person who did look after him, who had wanted to take care of him and give him the whole world.
"How can you expect love to reach your heart when you've snatched your heart back, Seokjinnie? You can't worry about protecting your own heart once you've given it to someone, you should be worried about what you're doing to their heart, which is in your hands," Jieun went on, like Seokjin wasn't already neck deep in a crisis.
He had realised that the reason Namjoon had withdrawn wasn't because he loved him less, but because he didn't want to hurt Seokjin, didn't want to pull Seokjin when he was being pushed away. And Seokjin had in turn withdrawn further back to protect his own heart, afraid Namjoon wanted to throw it away. He had been selfish, but he was determined to fix them now.
He had been so afraid, he had never reached his hand out this far for something he wanted, but for Namjoon, he had promised to himself that he would muster up all the courage it would take to love Namjoon fearlessly. He was going to open his heart for him, and hand it over. If he got his heart broken, then he got his heart broken. There's nobody else he would rather break his heart.
He felt Namjoon lay a gentle kiss on his ear, pulling him out of his reverie to the present. As if he knew.
He can't imagine how dumb they both must have been all those years ago to think that they had to choose between their art and each other, as if their love hadn't already dispersed into them like ink in water. And, sure, he had made the wrong choice, but he had corrected himself at the last moment, and if that's not on brand then he didn't know what was, he giggled to himself.
⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿ (◠‿◠) ♥ (◔‿◔) ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑
Namjoon was finally home. Right here, holding Seokjin in his arms, resting his chin on Seokjin's soft hair.
God, he never thought he could be this happy in life, this easily surpassed any and every expectations and hopes he had, and he had had many of those as a little boy. Dreams of having a place he belonged in, like his art house with its many inspiring artists, dreams of a home, like the one he had with Seokjin, and dreams of a family of his own. He couldn't believe he was actually going to have it all. He felt like he was going to explode with all the love in his heart.
He let some of it out in the form of a soft, warm kiss on Seokjin's ear, feeling it heat up instantly under his lips, turning a soft pink shade, matching his suit. That will do, he smiled to himself. For now. He could show Seokjin just how much he loved him and had missed him later. Seeing Seokjin absently fidget with his tie, with a hint of a cute pout on his lips, was giving him even more ideas of ways to express himself. Maybe he could tie up Seokjin's dainty little wrists with his tie before he fucked him into the mattress. God he would look like absolute sin.
His vulgar fantasies were rudely interrupted by Seokjin's giggling.
"What's so funny, huh?"
"Nothing," Seokjin giggled again, looking up at Namjoon, eyes sparkling like bright sunshine shimmering on a brilliant blue ocean, and god did Namjoon want to drown in them. He suddenly felt like the ground had caved beneath him and he was falling. He was so used to it by now, it didn't faze him anymore, that he could just look at Seokjin, the light hitting his face a certain way and he'd fall deeper in love. Or when Seokjin would stuff his cheeks full of food, like an adorable hamster, or when Seokjin's eyes glimmered bright before he was about to do something utterly deranged, or when Seokjin's luscious pink lips were stretched around his- no, he mustn't get carried away again.
He could see it in Seokjin's eyes right now, that Seokjin was slowly arriving at the same conclusion as him. Gently, he held Seokjin in place by his chin before he reached down a little to place an innocent peck on his lips. Seokjin's hand came flying up to the back of his head before he could pull back, and he rose up a little to steal a proper kiss from Namjoon. Once again, Seokjin interrupted them, this time with a laugh.
"Okay, come on now," Namjoon complained with a smile, resting his forehead against Seokjin's, looking straight into his eyes.
"I was just thinking about... us," Seokjin replied, eyes still shining in a smile, full of fondness.
Fuck. Had he caught up to Namjoon?
"Oh yeah, baby? What about us?" he kissed Seokjin's lips again, in hopes of distracting him, he had to beat Seokjin. Seokjin had beaten him to it all those years ago, he couldn't lose again.
"How we... used to be? Remember our mouldy old apartment?" Seokjin asked almost fondly.
"Mmm yes, I remember," he mumbled after another kiss.
"Remember how stupid you were back then?" Seokjin cackled.
"Hey-," Seokjin cut off his protest with a kiss, licking across his bottom lip, a very shameless attempt at distracting Namjoon, and he was not going to fall for it.
But it did bring back some memories. Five years ago, a lifetime ago, Christmas dinner at Seokjin's parents' place. The night he was sure Seokjin was going to dump him. And Seokjin was right, he had been fucking stupid. He had been so stupid for giving up on Seokjin so easily.
He had seen it coming, he had even finalised some apartments closer to his new studio, for when Seokjin would inevitably break up with him. It had hurt, but he couldn't force Seokjin to hold onto him. Foolish, selfish, he was supposed to hold on tightly to Seokjin, stop him from drifting away at every hint of a breeze, but he had been to afraid of getting his own heart broken in the process. He had simply resigned himself to accepting whatever Seokjin decided, he was tired.
Looking back now, they both were tired.
Months of going in circles trying to fix them, conversations reduced to just wistfully recalling how they used to be, because they had had little else to talk of anymore, both having closed off their hearts and withdrawn at some point, what once had been a lush garden had somehow turned into a desolate plane of loneliness, and it was taxing to tread all the way across it just to be heard by the other. The emptiness had soon started reflecting in his art clear as daylight, where he once used to produce art that was a warm abode for lost hearts and minds, his newer pieces were bleak, devoid of colour, warmth and emotion. Mass produced industrial garbage, that's what he'd labelled it himself, for although they made him a fortune, they were so far removed from who he was.
And with every passing day that Seokjin had withdrawn further and further away from him, it became harder and harder to return to being the man Seokjin had made him blossom into.
How had he so easily given up on this man who had gently and tirelessly tugged his heart out of its confines, shown him just how deeply and fiercely he was capable of loving?
Seokjin, who had brought every side of Namjoon out from hiding, bits of him that over the years he had wished to lose for he felt too deeply, thought too broadly, hurt too badly and loved too fervently. He had never fallen in love before Seokjin, and for weeks he couldn't believe that Seokjin was actually interested in him, that he wanted to see just how overbearing, needy and excessive Namjoon could be with his words and touches and everything in between, and still keep him. Seokjin who had kept him despite all his gnarly, rotten and useless branches and knots, and had loved him all the more for them, had provided a space for Namjoon in his heart, a place so big that no part of Namjoon got in the way, one where he could keep all his knots, nourish them and see what they could grow into. Seokjin's love was his spring, tenderly coaxing him to flourish to his full potential, to the man he was today.
Any heartbreak dwarfed next to Seokjin's love. He knew that now.
"Hey, hey, Joonie, we both were," Seokjin whispered, lifting him out of his reverie, holding his face in his beautiful, perfect hands. Namjoon relented with a sigh, going back to stroking Seokjin's cheek.
"But I also hope that you remember it was me that fixed us," Seokjin huffed pompously, drawing a chuckle out of Namjoon.
"Baby, I hope you remember that it was also you who was trying to end us," Namjoon laughed, and Seokjin instantly turned red.
"I know, I'm so sorry, Joonie, I was... God, I was just so scared and it wasn't your fault," Seokjin said a little too earnestly for Namjoon's comfort.
"Baby, you don't-"
"I'm not sad, Joonie, I just, I don't know I just felt like saying it, it was such a pivotal moment in our relationship, you know? And us being here now, Worldwide Handsome, Korea's Sweetheart, Oscar nominated Kim Seokjin, and his artist bro, we really made it, huh? It all just got me thinking about how far we came..." He stroked Namjoon's hair slowly in reassurance, with the fondest smile on his lips, and eyes warm as a thousand suns, like he hadn't just made an earnest confession and called Namjoon his "bro" in the same breath. Namjoon had learnt to ignore Seokjin's attempts to shoddily cover his earnest feelings with awful jokes many years ago.
This is it, this was his cue, Seokjin had done half his work for him by bringing up that Christmas, he reached for his wallet with his left hand, smoothly reaching into the compartment he intended to fish into, tilting Seokjin's face up with his right hand ensuring he keeps looking at him.
"Jinnie, we got through it though, together. It took us some time to learn, we stumbled a few times, we fell a few more, but we found our way. We fought and we made up, we hurt and we forgave, but we settled down, we took care of each other, we healed each other. And I have never been more grateful for anything else in my life. I am so grateful that it was you who taught me courage, I am so grateful that it was you who taught me what it truly means to love, fully, selflessly, unconditionally." Seokjin, already looking dazed and a little breathless, whispered, "Joon, what are you doing?"
"I'm just fulfilling my midnight wish from the New Year after that Christmas, baby," he smiled down at Seokjin, holding the ring up in between them. Seokjin looked down at the ring and never looked up again. It was a simple white gold band with a tiny light purple stone set into it.
"I could drain the world of all its colour trying to paint your love, and it would still look dull as ashes next to your love. I could chase spring around the world and it wouldn't even come close to how you can breathe life into me with a single word. I could use up every word from every language known to man, and it would take me a thousand lifetimes to tell you how beautiful you are, inside and out, every part of you," he tilted Seokjin's face up so that he can see the truth of it in Namjoon's eyes, "Every part of you."
Seokjin breathed out feebly, "Namjoon..." Namjoon knew it wasn't a protest as much as it was Seokjin trying to hold onto something, he was clutching Namjoon's shoulders in a vice-like grip now.
"Jinnie, my spring, the love of my life, will you fulfill my wish from years ago? Will you let me love you till the end of time and beyond?" He kissed Seokjin again, one for good luck. "Kim Seokjin, will you marry me?"
"Fuck, Namjoon." Seokjin was tearing up a little now, like he was relieved, like he had been holding his breath. "Yes, god yes." And he smashed his lips against Namjoon's before he even got a breath in. Namjoon felt his own eyes get a little wet and couldn't help smiling into their sloppy kiss, as he gently took Seokjin's hand in his and rolled the ring onto his finger. Suddenly, Seokjin broke apart, "When did you-"
Namjoon was beaming now, "A week after that Christmas dinner at your parents, on New Year's. And it fell out of my wallet when I was packing at some point yesterday..."
"Your passport-"
"I never lost it, it was the ring."
Seokjin sniffled one last time and punched his chest with no real force behind it. "So you've just carried it around in your wallet all these years?"
"Yeah, it was like a reminder of a promise I made to myself. To reach out for you the way you had reached for me that night, to not be afraid of running to you," he smiled down at Seokjin, gently wiping away a stray tear. "Also, we should probably not tell the boys about this anytime soon, I'm pretty sure Hobi would skin us if he finds out I proposed at his wedding."
"Mmm, I'm sure you can protect your husband," Seokjin said coyly. And fuck, that did something to Namjoon. He leaned down to suck the life out of Seokjin through his lips in a bruising kiss.
"Namjoon!" Seokjin exclaimed wide-eyed and gasping for breath, once Namjoon relented.
"What? I can't kiss my husband?" Namjoon smirked.