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Seokjin was quite surprised when he woke up and there was no one beside him. He was even more surprised to find that Namjoon, who was missing from his side, had not only gotten up earlier than him but had also taken the initiative to clothe him in simple boxers and a t-shirt.
The previous night had been… rough. Seokjin had no idea what came over the two of them, that their usual entanglement had more fire in it. He had no idea why both him and Namjoon had so much stamina that night. Namjoon had spent the entire night pinning Seokjin to the mattress of his own bed, and Seokjin was no better. He had spent the entire night answering Namjoon’s lewd words with sinful moans of his own.
Seokjin decided it was time to get up from the comfort of his bed when he heard a loud commotion just outside of his room. It sounded like a pan or some sort of kitchen utensil falling on the ground. It was then followed by a series of curses and profanities uttered by Namjoon.
As his feet landed on the carpeted floor, Seokjin decided it would be best if he took it… slow. His body was sore; any sudden movement and he was sure it would hurt like hell. As Seokjin slowly made his way to the door, he passed by the mirror in his room, and couldn’t help but sigh. Namjoon covered him in far too many marks last night. He had a catering event to do later in the day and wearing a scarf in this weather would be weird.
The area outside the room smelled of food - well, burnt food. But Seokjin could only smile, mostly at the thought of seeing Namjoon in his kitchen first thing in the morning attempting to cook breakfast for the two of them. He shuts the door behind him and walks into the kitchen.
Namjoon stood in front of the stove, his back to Seokjin. It was weird most times, seeing the younger one awake before Seokjin. Especially after a night of their arrangement. Most days, it was him laying beside Seokjin keeping him close, or it was Seokjin trying to stir Namjoon awake to get away from his tight hold on him. But today, Namjoon stood there, in slacks and his work shirt, clothes that he’d brought the night before, an apron tied around his waist, trying his best to cook.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Seokjin wished he could give Namjoon a back hug. Maybe put his chin on the younger’s shoulder, earn him a kiss on the lips as Namjoon turns to greet him. But that was just some sort of fantasy tucked away in the deepest desire of Seokjin’s mind and heart. This was just an arrangement they have, and his friend was just too polite to leave him after a night of entanglement under the sheets.
This was nothing more than an arrangement. Just two people helping each other out without having to seek out strangers.. Because Namjoon and Seokjin were already too familiar with each other. And some times, as Seokjin gazes at Namjoon in the afterglow of their sex, he regrets that they fell into this routine. This routine of their bodies pressed against each other under the warm sheets of a bed, he wished that stupid night hadn’t happened. Maybe Seokjin wouldn’t have fallen deeper. He wished Namjoon hadn’t agreed to this. His closest friend had agreed to fuck him when he they needed each other, and that was the most fucked up thing about it.
Their arrangement was fucked up, but Seokjin knows it’s the only way he gets to have Namjoon, gets to call him his lover, even if it’s just in bed, even it’s just for a few hours before they’re back to being Kim Namjoon and Kim Seokjin, inseparable best friends since college.
Namjoon sensed Seokjin’s presence who was leaning on the island. “I don’t think the eggs like me very much,” he sighed.
Seokjin gave him a chuckle and walked over to him. “You’re burning them.” He took the spatula from Namjoon. “Lucky for you, the eggs like me, and I like you.”
He realized what he said and waited for Namjoon’s reaction. Seokjin was ready to go on full defense mode when he heard Namjoon chuckle. “I am lucky, huh? Well then, I’ll let the master chef get to it.”
When Seokjin laid out the food on the table and sat across Namjoon, he noticed the mark that he left on the man in front of him. It was an angry red mark on the juncture of Namjoon’s collarbone, visible when the two topmost buttons of Namjoon’s shirt are undone. He remembers being whiny and saying how unfair it was that Namjoon was marking him up for the world to see, but the younger got off scot free.
“You should button up your shirt, or maybe wear a coat. Your coworkers might think you’re seeing someone.” Seokjin tries to sound nonchalant about it, the way Namjoon acts as if there was nothing weird about everything in their little arrangement. How he can shift from being Seokjin’s best friend one moment and become his lover who pins him to the bed or any available surface the next, when needed.
Seokjin tries to say it casually, but something inside him is twisting in pain as he utters those words.
“Let them,” Namjoon answers simply.
And just like that they’re back to being their normal selves. Like friends who just had a sleepover. They bicker over their food, laugh about some new inside joke that they have. Once again, they are just Namjoon and Seokjin in their natural state. Friends. But somehow, being with Namjoon, feeling his touches and moaning his name was also all too natural for Seokjin that he can’t help but feel scared.
After they finish their breakfast, Namjoon doesn’t stay for too long. He has work after all. He stands up and cleans the table as Seokjin just watches him do it. “I think I better go or I’ll be late again today. Good luck on your catering event later,” Namjoon said, getting his bag from the couch.
“I’ll bring leftovers to your place tonight,” Seokjin informs.
He heard Namjoon groan from across the room in reply. “I swear to God, if you rope me into watching Lord of the Rings again…”
Namjoon’s voice became a bit louder, no doubt he was walking over to where Seokjin was seated. Seokjin is surprised when Namjoon goes to him and bends down, their faces inches away from each other. There is panic in Seokjin’s mind telling himself that he should ask Namjoon what he was going to do. But before then, Namjoon seemingly snaps back to his own reality and stands up straight.
“What are you doing?” Seokjin asked.
A nervous laugh escaped Namjoon as he said, “I thought I saw something,” then left Seokjin at the table.
Seokjin however, stood up trying to get over his shock and embarrassment, ready to see Namjoon off. He called out, “Joon?”
From the doorway Namjoon responds, his eyebrows raised in confusion, “Yeah?”
There’s a giggle the Seokjin couldn’t help but let go. “Apron.”
Namjoon looked down and sure enough, the apron was still tied around his waist. “Oh shit” He muttered, hastily removing the apron and giving it to Seokjin.
“Joon?” Seokjin calls out again, standing in front of Namjoon.
“Yeah?”
“Have a nice day today.” he tells him, a small smile on his lips.
Namjoon flashes him his own smile and goes over to him, enveloping him in a hug. Namjoon wasn’t the most outwardly touchy person, and Seokjin was happy he was an exemption - even before they started sleeping with each other.
True to his word, Seokjin comes over to Namjoon’s place that night with several containers of food. Namjoon opens the door for him, and it hits Seokjin how his best friend becomes a different person depending on where he was. Namjoon in the office setting was much more stiff, with a more commanding aura. Namjoon outside of work, around Seokjin was just his goofy best friend who always dressed up in baggy clothes or in simple hoodies and jeans compared to the frame hugging suits he usually donned.
“You really did come…” Namjoon utters in disbelief.
Seokjin looks back at him as he fixes the containers inside Namjoon’s empty refrigerator. “If I didn’t, you would be eating fast food again tonight.”
“Do you really not trust me to take care of myself?” Namjoon jokes, leaning beside the refrigerator with his arms crossed over his chest.
“That incident of me cleaning your college dorm and finding tons of ramen packets still haunts me to this day. Does that answer your question?” Seokjin pats Namjoon’s shoulder as he makes his way past him.
Namjoon’s apartment is a reflection of who he is. Simple, exquisite, charming. Simply designed furniture from the basic formed ones to the overly geometric ones. The earth tones that made the place even more calmer, made it feel even more like home. Namjoon had very few things, except for the necessary ones and yet, Seokjin would spot a new figurine every time he visited, that it makes him even sigh.
His friend never really got over his habit of spending whenever he saw something he really liked.
Seokjin settles himself on the couch while he waits for Namjoon who is microwaving a bag of popcorn. A devious plan formed itself in Seokjin’s mind. Why bother flipping through channels when he had his hard drive with a copy of Lord of the Rings? Before Namjoon could even stop him or even notice him, Seokjin plugs in the hard drive.
He almost jumps when Namjoon calls out to him from the kitchen, “Did you bring the clothes that I left at your place?”
“I did.” Seokjin nods, trying to act casual as if he didn’t double cross Namjoon with his movie choice.
“Can you place them in the room?” Namjoon requests.
Seokjin got up from the couch, gathered the bag with Namjoon’s clothes, and walked to Namjoon’s room. The smell of the fabric softener of the sheets hits his senses. It’s been so long since Seokjin had last entered Namjoon’s bedroom. Most of the time, they do their deed in Seokjin’s apartment. He places the clothes on top of the dresser. Seokjin couldn’t resist the temptation to feel the soft sheets of Namjoon’s bed, remembering how it felt against his bare skin back then. The soft mattress and the thick duvet. He remembers the way the sunlight sips through the sheer curtains, blending on the walls.
This bed was much softer than Seokjin’s. Much more comfortable even if it wasn’t bigger than what he has in his own apartment. Seokjin could simply fall asleep on Namjoon’s bed and nothing could wake him up.
“Don’t tell me you want to go for a round.” Namjoon raises an eyebrow at him, teasing.
Seokjin’s eyes snap open. He sees Namjoon by the doorway, and he blushes.
“Shut up, I’m still tired from last night,” Seokjin tells him, getting up from the bed.
Namjoon chuckles. “Me too, Jinnie.”
The two of them plop down on the couch. Instantaneously, Namjoon occupies the edge, as Seokjin squeezes himself against Namjoon’s side, taking up most of the space. Namjoon’s arm comes around the back of the sofa, if he could, he would hold Seokjin. This was them in their natural state. Always so close, always touching. Maybe that was why it was easier for them to fall into their routine, maybe it was that familiarity that made it easier for them to not mind being entangled with each other
Seokjin presses play on the remote. As soon as the opening credits roll in, Namjoon groans, throwing his head back. “I knew you would do this to me!” He complains, but he doesn’t do anything. Just sits there with a huge bowl of popcorn on his lap, and Seokjin clinging on to his side.
From time to time Namjoon feeds Seokjin popcorn as the elder is very much engrossed in the film in front of him despite seeing it many times. Seokjin could even recite the lines word by word, and Namjoon would just sit there with the warmest smile on his face.
And then it’s Namjoon putting the bowl away, putting a throw pillow over his lap and guiding Seokjin to lie down fully. It’s Namjoon’s hand over Seokjin’s side, slowly inching its way inside his shirt, feeling his skin, drawing patterns with his finger. A content sigh escapes Seokjin’s lips, feeling the trail of Namjoon’s touch. At the same time, it’s Seokjin drawing circles on Namjoon’s jean-clad knee with his index finger.
It’s Seokjin reveling in the feeling of Namjoon’s dainty touches, the small unnoticeable gestures that make him comfortable around him. Touches like these even before they had their arrangement that almost tell him it’s okay, it’s still the same, it’s still us.
But it was also the small touches that led to all this. The complications, the arrangement. It was Seokjin and Namjoon in this very same apartment one night so long ago, drunk on booze and a broken heart. Seokjin who was dumped badly and Namjoon who just wanted to pick up the broken pieces of his best friend. And then it was Seokjin saying a lot of nonsense to the point of making Namjoon worry.
“How do I forget?” He had asked.
“Right now, you can’t. That’s alright, I’m here.” Namjoon had assured him.
Seokjin had taken another swig. “Should I sleep around?” he slurred at his words. “Find the person that would make me forget. Even just for a day, make me forget for a week, a month. I don’t care. As long as I forget.”
Alarm bells had sounded in Namjoon’s mind upon hearing Seokjin’s words. Thinking about it now, both of them didn’t know whether it was the alcohol, the nature of their topic, or maybe they were just both lonely. But Namjoon took Seokjin’s wrist back then, stopping him from taking another sip of alcohol, and in all seriousness, looking Seokjin in the eyes, he said, “Just come to me…”
All Seokjin knew was that Namjoon had looked so serious. Under the dim glow of the lamp in his room, Namjoon looked very handsome despite the haggardness. Maybe both of them had misinterpreted what Namjoon said. Maybe they were just too drunk to care that they were risking their friendship back then. But after that, when their faces were merely centimeters apart, it was Seokjin who closed the gap, and Namjoon responded without hesitation.
That night it was the two of them crossing all the boundaries that shouldn’t have been crossed in the first place. Hands underneath shirts, the pants and sighs that left their lips, skin on skin contact. Each other’s name being moaned in the darkness, under the sheets. That night, it was Namjoon looking Seokjin in the eyes as if to confirm if it was a yes, as if to confirm if this was what he wanted. Maybe they had drank a lot, but not too much to forget what reason was.
It was their naked bodies pressed close to each other under the soft duvet of Namjoon’s bed. The way Seokjin’s fingernails raked Namjoon’s back. The steady rhythm that Namjoon had established. And somehow that night, Seokjin was asking himself, as Namjoon kept pounding into him, were they fucking? But it was almost too gentle to just be labeled as that. But he knew they were nothing more than friends for what they were doing to be called ‘making love’.
That was the first time. The first of many.
They were silent the morning after that. Too sober. That morning, Seokjin had experienced what awkward silence felt like with Namjoon. He experienced suffocating silence with his best friend.
But as Namjoon drove him back to his apartment, stopping at the parking lot, when Seokjin didn’t get out of the car, Namjoon had asked, “It’s not a mistake, right?” He gripped the steering wheel hard, his knuckles turning white. He avoided looking at Seokjin then.
Seokjin hadn’t responded to him. Just sat there in the silence of that car, sensing Namjoon’s frustration. When Namjoon couldn’t wait anymore, he asked again, “It’s not a mistake, right...”
The desperation was evident in his voice. There was fear even. Seokjin had felt how to have his mind in overdrive. It wasn’t a mistake he was sure of that. He was drunk, yes, they both were. But it wasn’t a mistake. It was hard to explain why it wasn’t. But Seokjin just knew, what they did wasn't a mistake. It wasn’t something he was going to regret.
“It’s not,” Seokjin had answered. But back then Seokjin didn’t know it would lead to more entanglements. If he did, he would have told Namjoon that it was, and they would have buried that event in the depths of their memories, never to see the light of day again.
But then again it was better that it was Namjoon. He could trust Namjoon with everything he had. He could even trust Namjoon with the things that he didn’t even trust himself with. Seokjin could even trust Namjoon with his unsure feelings.
Right now, as Seokjin lays his head on Namjoon’s lap, just the two of them in their natural selves, Seokjin wonders if he’s the only one confused about his feelings. He wonders if Namjoon somehow questions his feelings too or what he feels when Seokjin calls him or when he calls Namjoon. Does he hesitate too? Does he feel like this is wrong or weird? Suddenly being the person that knows every inch of your body, being that person who you bare yourself too?
But then how is that any different from being best friends for so long? Being naked around each other was just an added thing.
The movie ends in a blur; with Seokjin too focused on his thoughts, he barely paid attention to the movie. Namjoon was the same. The younger appeared to be exhausted from work today. His eyes closed, his cheek propped up by his knuckles as he rested his arm on the arm rest.
Seokjin sits up carefully, afraid to wake Namjoon up. He cleans up the mess of wrappers and soda cans that were sprawled around the small living room. When he is done, he decides to sit down next to Namjoon again. He inches closer to him, gazing at him. Namjoon’s eyelids are closed. His steady breathing, the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest suggest that while asleep, the lack of snoring showed he isn’t much too deep in his sleep yet.
For the briefest moment, Seokjin wonders what it would feel like to kiss Namjoon when they weren’t together in the sheets. But when he finds that his face is mere centimeters away from Namjoon, he stops and schools himself.
He gets up, ready to leave, when a hand holds on to his wrist. Seokjin turns to find Namjoon slowly opening his eyes. He looks up at him, squinting a little. “Aren’t you going to stay for the night?” Namjoon pulls him down, close to him. Seokjin could hear the drowsiness in Namjoon’s voice.
“Namjoon, I told you-” Seokjin didn’t get to finish what he was saying when Namjoon cut him off.
“We’re not going to do anything. We don’t have to. Jin, we’re not always having sex. You said it yourself, right? There’s nothing to worry about or be afraid of. We’re not just people who have sex. Outside of that, when you don’t need me for that, we’re just who we were when we first met each other years ago,” Namjoon says it all in one go. Like he was explaining it to himself as well.
Seokjin gives in. Both Namjoon and him find themselves in Namjoon’s room. The younger holds his hand as he guides him to the room, as if this was the first time Seokjin would be spending the night there. Seokjin grips Namjoon’s hands, savors the feeling of his palm in his, and for a moment this all feels too intimate even for them as friends.
Seokjin borrows a spare set of clothes from Namjoon. A baggy shirt from their college days and some pajama bottoms. Like always, Namjoon opts to sleep shirtless.
They lie down on Namjoon’s bed, Namjoon fast asleep. Seokjin wants to trace the outline of Namjoon’s features. In the little light that shines from the outside, Seokjin wants to run his fingers on the bridge of Namjoon’s nose, to the curve of his lips. Outline the face that he always sees. Etch its contour in his memories.
Seokjin is angry at himself for being consumed by his own thoughts that he had unknowingly made everything with Namjoon about their arrangement. About what they do when they’re lonely or in need. It was as though he has forgotten that they promised each other that nothing was going to change as long as they didn't change how they treated each other afterwards.
Who knew that this would be the biggest set up? Because whenever Seokjin is around Namjoon, he finds himself at a loss of how to feel for the younger. He isn’t really keeping his promise to Namjoon.
As he lays down next to Namjoon, his heart beating widely in his chest in the quiet of the night, Seokjin thinks about the two of them. There is so much confusion in Seokjin’s heart. Confusion because of Namjoon’s words and his actions. He knows Namjoon is kind, but sometimes , Seokjin feels that Namjoon is just too kind to him. Even way before. It gives him hope somehow. Maybe if he becomes sure enough of the intensity of what he is feeling, Namjoon would reciprocate.
Seokjin knows he’s viewed Namjoon as more than just a friend for a long time now, but especially for the time being that they were in their arrangement. Is he falling because he is ready to admit to himself that he really does like Namjoon or is this just a side effect of his touches?
There were many times when Seokjin just wanted to ask Namjoon what they were. Were they lovers? Could what they have be considered a relationship? But even if he thought about asking Namjoon about their relationship, it seemed pretty self explanatory. They were, they are best friends who fuck each other. It’s cruel, but it’s reality.
He wants to know so bad what his true feelings are. Is this love? Did he harbor such feelings for Namjoon and just kept it in for so long? Seokjin wants to cry. Why is it so hard to tell if you already love someone whom you’re close to for so long? When he had a problem, Seokjin came to Namjoon. And this was a problem that he couldn’t come to Namjoon to. Because Namjoon was the problem.
In arrangements like this, the first to fall, the first to have feelings was the loser. They made an agreement, him and Namjoon. They factored in everything they could, their friendship, their dynamic together, but they forgot to factor in the development of feelings. They forgot to factor in the feelings that were unsaid, the feelings that were just waiting to jump out and bloom in the most unexpected way and time.
But in this arrangement, there is only one thing that Seokjin was sure of. He didn’t want to lose Namjoon. If this is how he keeps Namjoon next to him, if this is how he gets to have Namjoon stay in his life without complications, then so be it. Seokjin would let himself burn in both lust and unrequited love if it meant the one person constant in his life would not walk out, then so be it.
In the darkness of that night, in the light snores coming from the man beside him, Seokjin snuggles close to Namjoon. And in an instant, like instinct, the younger one pulls him close, flush against his chest.
The following days, Namjoon becomes busy with a lot of work. The more that Seokjin didn’t see him, the more Seokjin felt on edge. There was something so comforting in knowing that Namjoon will always be beside him. But now that Namjoon is busier than ever, Seokjin is at a loss. But if Seokjin wanted, he could be the one to go to Namjoon this time. Be the one who helps him out. They had crossed so many boundaries as friends, what harm would it cause crossing more?
So Seokjin does. He goes to Namjoon’s office from time to time, bringing him food, staying there while Namjoon works on papers and Seokjin works out his catering schedules. At some point, Namjoon couldn’t help but laugh.
“Why are you laughing?” Seokjin asks.
Namjoon sets down the pen he was holding to sign some papers. He goes over his desk to where Seokjin was sitting on the couch. He sighs as he rests his head on Seokjin’s lap bringing his legs up on the end of the couch.
“This is how we were during our thesis days in college. You, revising your recipes, me jumping from tab to tab on my computer just to make sure I included every source available for my paper. Just us coexisting.” Namjoon reminisces, his eyes closed, arms over his chest.
Seokjin cards his finger through Namjoon’s hair. He always knew Namjoon liked it when he did that. He looks down on the man resting below him and he wants to kiss his forehead.
“You have bags under your eyes, Joonie…” Seokjin sighs as he reaches for Namjoon’s glasses and removes them from him, placing them on the small table in front of them.
Before Seokjin’s hand could come back to Namjoon’s hair, the younger catches it in his hand and holds it. Namjoon caresses the back of his hand with his thumb and Seokjin feels electricity coursing through him. The gentleness of Namjoon’s action, the intertwined hands on top of his chest where Seokjin could feel Namjoon’s heart beating.
Small touches like this, although they were used to it, make it so much harder for Seokjin. It makes him want to risk it all. Risk the normalcy that he’s found with their arrangement, risk the years they’ve spent together, coexisting, being each other’s safety net. It was harder when Seokjin could only know his own feelings.
Namjoon holds Seokjin’s hand tight, and Seokjin squeezes Namjoon’s hand. This intimacy between the two of them blurred all the lines that were left uncrossed. But Seokjin does not complain. Sometimes he tricks himself into thinking that the person beside him, the person holding his hand right now, was more than just a friend. That they were more than just friends. Sometimes it works, sometimes it hurts. But Seokjin will not complain.
The door to Namjoon’s office opens, and a staff member comes in, interrupting the peaceful silence that Seokjin was basking in. His head whips to the direction of the person.
“Oh… I’m sorry,” the staff member mumbles.
Namjoon’s eyes snap open, he rises and takes a look at what his staff wanted. Seokjin tries not to think too much into the disappointed sigh that Namjoon heaved as he moved away from him. It was probably because of his interrupted rest.
As Seokjin watches Namjoon move away from him, he is reminded harshly that what he wants cannot be. In this arrangement, even though it isn’t a contest, Seokjin is on the losing side simply because he is falling. Falling hard.
When Seokjin can't go to Namjoon, it's Namjoon who goes to him. He brings his work to Seokjin's apartment and maybe brings a little bit of something for Seokjin too. In return, the elder takes care of him. Cooks food for Namjoon to snack on while working. Oftentimes, when Seokjin sees Namjoon's eyebrows utterly furrowed he can't help but sigh and stop whatever he was doing and snatch the document that was clearly troubling the younger, who does not protest. He would allow Seokjin to lead him away from the dining table and into the living room where they would just end up lying down together, cramped in Seokjin's sofa.
Seokjin and Namjoon were both needy for each other. Even back then in their university days. It would be the job of the other to keep the other one in check, make sure they were still alive. They brought that neediness to this day and somehow, mixed something with it.
But needing each other was now part of who they were. When Namjoon needed to relieve too much stress, needed to feel like he was still in control, there was Seokjin. And when Seokjin felt overwhelmed, felt too lonely, there was Namjoon. And sometimes, more often than not, when it’s a mix of both loneliness and arousal, there were the two of them ready to meet in the middle.
As Namjoon once again found himself in Seokjin’s apartment, just the two of them on the bed. Just the two of them close together. Namjoon trying to sleep, trying his best to rest from being worn out, and Seokjin trying his best to support him, while also trying to keep his feelings at bay as Namjoon snuggles close to him. Burying his face in the crook of Seokjin’s neck, his arms holding him close as their legs tangled together.
“Joon?” Seokjin calls, his voice quiet.
“Hm?” Seokjin feels the vibration of Namjoon’s voice against his back.
He lets a moment pass before Seokjin answers, “I want to take care of you.”
Seokjin turns to Namjoon, his hand resting on Namjoon’s hip. Seokjin was not sure why he was suggesting this in the first place. But it was Namjoon’s close proximity, his breath on Seokjin’s neck that made all of his restraint flush down the drain.
There is nothing wrong with what Seokjin said. It was in the way he was looking at Namjoon that suggested something else.
“Are you sure?”
“Let me take care of you this time. You don’t have to do anything,” Seokjin whispers, his lips crashing onto Namjoon’s in a hungry kiss.
Namjoon lets Seokjin do what he wants. His restraint is gone just like Seokjin’s.
In an instant, their lips are connected. Seokjin’s arms around Namjoon while Namjoon’s roam the expanse of Seokjin’s torso. It’s a lot easier this way for Seokjin. Do the thing that he wishes he hasn’t started, but it’s a lot easier than saying the words that he can’t even admit to himself.
Their kiss is hungry and rushed. Their tongues inside each other’s mouths, tasting each other. Namjoon’s hands under Seokjin’s shirt, feeling the expanse of his skin. Seokjin rolls Namjoon over until the younger is lying on his back and Seokjin comes up to straddle him. In an instant their clothes are gone, their skin touching, feeling each other. In an instant they are connected.
Namjoon’s hands come up to Seokjin’s hips and waist, holding him, guiding him, moving him as both of them pant and groan in pleasure.
In between the sighs and pants, the bed creaking underneath them, their flushed and sweating skin, and Seokjin holding onto Namjoon for support, Seokjin is hoping that maybe his feelings come across to Namjoon. That maybe there was something more beyond this arrangement.
The way he wants Namjoon’s intimate touches to go beyond their relationship under the sheets. Seokjin wants Namjoon to whisper those sweet words not only when they’re too caught up in the lewd actions they do while in bed. He wants to hear them when they’re walking down the street holding hands, hear them when they’re eating dinner and their hands on top of each other’s on the table.
Seokjin doesn’t want to be the only one who falls.
But he is. Seokjin is the only one falling, and he’s very much afraid that Namjoon cannot catch him this time.
Even now as Namjoon thrusts in and out of him, calling his name, whispering dirty and romantic things to him, that was just now. Now while they’re in bed. After this they’re back to being friends who shouldn’t cross anymore boundaries.
“Catch me…” he mutters breathless, his movements erratic, seeking his own purchase of pleasure as he senses Namjoon’s intense gaze looking up at him..
Namjoon comes up, sits, and holds him, their chest flushed against each other as Seokjin continues his movements, the younger kissing any available part of Seokjin’s skin that he could reach.
Then Namjoon whispers something to his ear that does Seokjin in, “I will.”
Seokjin stops moving, his chest heaving from all the movement he's been doing. He stares at Namjoon, his eyes wide, the cloud of lust gone. Namjoon stares at him, his eyes hooded. Seokjin grips his shoulders as he takes deep breaths, tries to calm himself, tries to gain his composure, resume. But Seokjin couldn’t. He couldn’t keep calm, couldn’t resume his movements. He stays there seated on Namjoon, gripping onto his shoulders.
Namjoon has his grip on Seokjin’s waist, waiting for him to move again. When a moment of impatience passes on Namjoon, he urges the elder, but Seokjin shakes his head and looks down, keeping Namjoon at an arm’s length. Not long, a tear falls on the younger one’s skin.
The lust that was clouding Namjoon’s mind, filling him with desire to touch Seokjin was replaced by concern. His eyes widen at Seokjin as the elder quietly sobs in front of him, trying his best to contain himself.
Seokjin fails.
His hands cover his face as he sits on top of Namjoon, their bodies still connected as sobs continue to wreak his body. Namjoon’s arms that were around his waist, envelop him. Seokjin cries into Namjoon’s bare chest as the man rubs circles on his back.
Namjoon was confused. He didn’t know what was going on, why Seokjin was crying all of a sudden.
“Jin? What’s wrong? Talk to me?” Namjoon pulls them apart. He searches for Seokjin’s eyes, trying to get him to look at him. But the more that he does, the more that Seokjin pulls away. All Seokjin could do was cry, tears streaming down his face, onto their bodies.
The feelings overwhelm Seokjin because he thinks, he knows that all he gets to have is Namjoon’s body but what about his heart? Namjoon’s touches and caresses were all for him to take. But what about Namjoon’s heart? After all of this, when Namjoon finds someone, even Namjoon’s touches, the kisses that he peppers on his skin will no longer be Seokjin’s. There will be nothing left.
The younger one brings him back to his embrace, holding him tight.
Namjoon fixes the two of them. He pulls out from Seokjin and gently lays him down on the bed. He freshens Seokjin up and dresses him. He doesn’t leave. Namjoon stays over just like he always does. But this time, he holds Seokjin tighter throughout the night.
Funny how it was Seokjin who suggested that he would take care of Namjoon this time, but it still ended up with Namjoon picking him up
When the morning comes, Namjoon is still there. Still holding him close. Their bodies pressed close to each other, Seokjin feeling the warmth of Namjoon’s body on his, the blanket draped over the two of them. Namjoon cradles him in his sleep, like he was afraid Seokjin would vanish if he didn’t hold on to him.
“Joon…” he whispers, aware that the man holding him was awake like him.
“Shhh… you don’t have to explain anything. Just let me hold you,” Namjoon tells him, tucking Seokjin under his chin.
In moments like this, Seokjin is reminded that the man holding him wasn’t just a booty call. Namjoon is someone who would stay and get involved in his life. Seokjin will bask in this warmth as long as he can. As long as he is allowed to.
And then he’ll work on untangling himself from this situation.
After that incident, Seokjin doesn’t initiate any physical entanglements with Namjoon. They just hangout but then he does try to limit their contact. Whatever little, unconscious touches they were used to, Seokjin tried his best to avoid them. He puts distance between him and Namjoon. Like a little experiment if Seokjin could last long without too much physical contact with him.
Seokjin thought maybe he could get used to not having Namjoon in his bed. Until Namjoon ends up being too busy at work. Until Seokjin doesn’t hear anything from Namjoon anymore. Seokjin thought maybe he had finally done it; that maybe he was on the road to getting over these destructive feelings that would lead to both his and Namjoon’s downfall. Maybe he can look at Namjoon and it would be just like years ago, when feelings weren’t involved, when everything was just casual.
But one night makes him go back to square one. One text from Namjoon and he’s back at it again. Seokjin is back to falling.
Can I come over?
Seokjin stares at the message. He doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t respond. He lets the message just stay in his inbox, not even bothering to open it. Not even bothering to tell Namjoon if he can or can not come. And then Namjoon follows up and it makes Seokjin curl into himself.
I see… good night.
There is no one far more frustrating to Seokjin than himself. He can’t make up his mind about whether he wants to spend the rest of his life with his best friend and eventually level up to become something more than friends, or if he wants to get over whatever feelings he has.
Love in this arrangement is a dangerous thing.
There is silence between Namjoon and Seokjin that stretches in days. No messages, no one dares to initiate. No visits, no one dares to knock on each other’s doors.
On the fifth day of this silence, Seokjin stares at his phone as he sits in his living room. He stares at it, hoping, willing Namjoon to be the first one to go to him. It’s too much to ask given that it was him and his confusion that led to this.
Seokjin wants to know if Namjoon was having these thoughts too. Was he looking for him? Why hasn’t Namjoon come for him again?
There is longing in the way Seokjin looks at the last message Namjoon had sent him. The disappointment etched in it. Seokjin tries to imagine Namjoon’s face behind his screen that night when Seokjin refuses to answer him. The sigh that escapes his lips when he decides to send that last message in defeat.
Seokjin hugs himself on the couch, wishing it was Namjoon’s arms around him instead of his own. He really must be so stupid to subject himself to too much suffering that he can’t help the tears forming in the corner of his eyes.
The silence eats away at him, and has been eating away at him. Seokjin misses Namjoon a lot. He misses the way his eyes smile with his lips when he looks at Seokjin, he misses the way Namjoon gets lost in his thoughts when they’re working together and all Seokjin could do was stare at his serious expression. Seokjin misses the way Namjoon touches him under his shirt when they’re on the sofa just lying there together after a tiring day.
Seokjin misses Namjoon. All the denying and the thinking was making him lose Namjoon. If he wasn’t about to lose him then, he is about to now.
He remembers that there was such a time when he wanted to tell Namjoon that they should stop while it was still early. While they still weren’t in too deep into their fucked up arrangement. Two best friends sleeping with each other.
Seokjin remembers the way Namjoon had his arms around his bare shoulders, the way Seokjin was resting his head on Namjoon’s chest, the blanket draped over their bodies. He remembers their flushed skin and the afterglow of their entanglement, when he had asked, “What we’re doing, it doesn’t have to affect us, right?”
“It doesn’t”, Namjoon affirmed. Seokjin relaxed as Namjoon carded his hands through Seokjin’s hair.
Seokjin had looked him in the eyes and said, “Nothing has to change, we’re just adding something to this friendship.”
It felt true that time. But as Seokjin looks at it now, what he said then turned out to be lies he was telling himself. Because he couldn’t come to terms with his own feelings.
If this is the only way he can mask his own feelings towards his friend, then maybe Seokjin can live with it.
Except now, he realizes he can’t. Because Seokjin wishes that outside of the nights that they spend under the sheets, outside the nights that Namjoon would pleasure him, that he would call Namjoon or it was Namjoon calling him, Seokjin wishes the younger would also touch him like they were more than best friends. Like Namjoon held feelings - deeper feelings for him too.
But in wishing all of those, Seokjin forgot to look beyond himself. It was always just him and his feelings. It was never Namjoon and his feelings. Seokjin forgot to factor in that maybe Namjoon would stay every time after their sex because he also wishes that they were more than just friends who sleep together. Seokjin forgot to factor in that maybe Namjoon agreed to this mess because he thought that this was the only way he would get Seokjin.
They got each other’s bodies, but they weren’t sure if they had each other’s hearts.
But Seokjin finally wants to take his chance.
So in the same night Seokjin texts Namjoon a simple, Joon.
Not even several minutes later, Namjoon replies, I’m on my way.
As Seokjin reads the reply over and over again, he realizes how easy it was to get Namjoon to come to him. How it feels like he’s always taking the attention Namjoon gives him for granted. Because Namjoon is always there for Seokjin in a heartbeat, but Seokjin? Seokjin hesitates. He hesitates until Namjoon takes it the wrong way.
When Seokjin hears a knock on his door, he springs up the couch, ready to open the door. But as he lets Namjoon inside his apartment, it dawns on him that he doesn’t have any plan at all. He doesn’t know what to say, what to do. All he knows is he misses Namjoon, wants Namjoon.
Namjoon faces him in the doorway, in his crinkled work shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his tie loose, but he offers Seokjin a smile. And God did Seokjin miss that dimpled smile. The kind of smile that always assures him that there was nothing that could ever come in between the two of them.
Because it was always Namjoon and Seokjin on one side and the world on the other. Always. No matter what. And now, Seokjin was risking that, but he was willing to. He wants to admit it to himself, to Namjoon, to the world.
But when Namjoon enters, Seokjin senses the confusion in Namjoon. Like he is trying to make sense of why he was there but they weren’t doing anything. Like he was asking himself why Seokjin has not come onto him yet. It’s different from the times that Seokjin had called Namjoon this late at night after all. Because Seokjin was clothed too much, instead of just some baggy shirt that was easy to remove. There is no kissing hungrily as they make their way through the room, no bodies being felt and pinned against the wall.
It’s just Seokjin leading Namjoon by the hand. It’s Seokjin closing the door to his room with a soft click, as Namjoon makes his way to the edge of the bed sitting, with a sigh as he lands.
Seokjin notices the disheveled appearance of the younger, guilt washing over him for calling him over in such short notice. But weren’t they always like this? Always on short notice, always spontaneous. But even so, they always came. Always made time for each other, always showed up.
“Were you at the office at this hour?” Seokjin asks him.
Namjoon nods. “Yeah I was reading and working on some things.”
Seokjin starts to make his way to Namjoon. “Oh Joon, if it was important you didn’t have-”
“No.” Namjoon cuts him off, his voice deep. “You’re important.”
Seokjin’s steps falter, avoiding the gaze that Namjoon has set on him. He stays rooted where he stands, not sure what to do, not sure what to say. Seokjin doesn’t know how to feel. He doesn’t respond. He just stands awkwardly in the room trying to think what to say next.
It’s Namjoon who speaks first.
“Do you want to… stop? Is that why I’m here?” Namjoon asks. There is something sad in the way Namjoon asked him. Like he would be disappointed if Seokjin said yes, like he was afraid that Seokjin would tell him that they should stop whatever it is they’ve been doing.
He turns his head to look at Namjoon who had his brows furrowed looking down at his hands. Namjoon looks so helpless, like there was an unsolvable puzzle in front of him. Like he wants to solve this puzzle, like he’ll die if he doesn’t.
But Seokjin was in a maze, he wanted to find his way out, find his way to Namjoon.
“I like you,” was Seokjin’s answer to the question.
Namjoon looks up at him, laughs nervously but replies, “I like you too, Jin.”
Frustration and eagerness wells up in Seokjin’s chest. “I’m not sure you understand. I love you.” He breathes.
There it was out in the open. For the world to hear and know, for Namjoon to hear and know, for him to digest and decide for himself what to do with Seokjin’s words.
“Jin… Seokjin…” Namjoon tries to get up, go to Seokjin, but he holds up his hand and stops Namjoon. The younger obeys, stays where he is seated.
“I love you and it’s not in the way friends - best friends are supposed to love each other. You’re not just some fuck buddy to me. I’m in love with you. I love you.” Seokjin offers Namjoon a bittersweet smile.
Of course, there was fear in his heart. How long has he been keeping all of these words to himself? How has he denied himself of his own truth? And now that it was out in the open, now that he was saying it in front of the person he cherishes the most, there is fear of losing that person.
“Are you sure?” Namjoon asks him, disbelief evident in his features. But strangely enough, Seokjin does not see any hint of discontent.
Namjoon is right to doubt. When physical intimacy was involved between two individuals for a long time, it blurred the lines of what loving someone really was. But Seokjin is sure.
He was sure when Namjoon gave him his goofy smiles, he was sure when he’s the first one Namjoon calls when he’s tired, when he’s bored, when he’s happy. Seokjin was sure when he woke up in the morning, held by Namjoon every night, that they slept together. He was sure when the two of them could just sit quietly together and it would just feel right, when kissing Namjoon no matter how rushed it was, how hungry it was, it just felt so right doing it.
Out of all the things in his life that Seokjin is sure of, he is very sure of his love for Namjoon.
Seokjin sees Namjoon sitting on the edge of the bed contemplating what to do. And for a moment, he is scared Namjoon would walk out on him. Their arrangement had already been complicated from the get go because of their history, because they were best friends in the first place. And here is, Seokjin making it more complicated by confessing. But for once, Seokjin wanted to say the things that he was sure of.
Then Namjoon says, “It’s not because I make you scream in bed, right? It’s not because I worship your body when we’re under the sheets? It’s real?”
Seokjin walks to Namjoon, straddles him. His arm circles the younger’s neck as he sits on his lap, his legs on each side of Namjoon. He presses their foreheads together, their eyes gazing into each other, lips merely centimeters apart. In an automatic response, Namjoon finds his hands on Seokjin's sides, finding their way underneath his shirt and feeling his skin.
“I don't want us to just be lovers under the sheets. I want us to be lovers who hold hands while walking, kiss the other while the other is rambling.” Seokjin laughs. “I want us to be lovers. I trust you enough with my body. I trust you enough with my bareness and vulnerabilities. I trust you enough with my heart.” He caresses Namjoon’s cheek with his thumb. “I want to know if you do too.”
Namjoon closes his eyes, nuzzles their noses together and sighs, holding Seokjin tighter. “I do. God, I do too. Of course, I do!”
Seokjin couldn’t stop the tears that fell, but at the same time he smiles as relief finally washes over him. Namjoon brings their lips together, Seokjin’s hands coming up to cup Namjoon’s face. They kiss unlike they’ve ever kissed before. More affectionate, slower than they’re used to, less hungry. Taking their time to feel the softness of each other’s lips.
When they pull away, Namjoon holds Seokjin’s face in his hands, gazes into his eyes, and smiles softly at him. “I love you. I love you a lot, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you; if I wake up one day and you tell me you don’t want anything to do with me anymore.”
“That won’t happen.” Seokjin smiles at him through his tears.
Namjoon brings their lips together again, hungrier, but still filled with so much passion. Seokjin likes the feeling of kissing Namjoon. He liked this feeling then, likes it even more now that they’ve finally said what they wanted to. No more uncertainties and hesitations. Just them being sure of the person they’re kissing. Just Kim Namjoon and Kim Seokjin being sure of each other.
They take things slow. Taking their time in removing each other’s clothes. Kissing and touching. The lingering eyes that watch Seokjin as he makes his way through Namjoon clothes, unbuttoning, unbuckling. Namjoon lifts the shirt from Seokjin’s frame, cupping his face to bring their lips together. The hurried, hungry pace that they were used to was replaced by the slow, sensual drag of them fumbling their way to each other. It was slow, it was passionate. It was loving.
It’s Namjoon carrying Seokjin, placing him gently on the bed. It’s him kissing all over Seokjin; his lips, his neck, his shoulders, his thighs, and his hands. Seokjin basks in the attention that the younger is giving him, the content sighs that leave his lips. The way his fingers run through Namjoon’s hair, the way Namjoon holds him still by the hip.
“I want you…” Seokjin breathes, looking up at Namjoon.
Namjoon cages him in between the bed. He reaches for Seokjin's hand, their fingers laced together on the soft pillows, “You already do. You have me, all of me.”
It is the truth. Seokjin already had Namjoon right from the beginning. When he was just falling, Namjoon had already fallen. When Seokjin was busy hesitating and clearing things for himself, Namjoon was already sure. Already sure that in his life, in this lifetime, there is no one else that he will love other than Seokjin. And if he has to do it quietly, he will. How long has Namjoon already conceded to that truth?
But as always, Seokjin will surprise him. Come to him, touch him, tell him words he least expects. Tonight, in the dim room of Seokjin’s house, Namjoon feels the man in his touch, hears the sighs from his lips, feels the trembling of his legs around him, he is happy and content. Happy to call Seokjin his lover. Relieved to have Seokjin, Delighted to be Seokjin’s. There was no other way he would find himself other than basking in the presence and love of Seokjin. That alone was enough for him.
In the stillness of that night, under the sheets of Seokjin’s bed are just him and Namjoon. The small glow of Seokjin’s bedside lamp illuminating their bodies pressed together, the shadows of Namjoon and Seokjin’s body on the wall of the room. It is their limbs tangled together, Seokjin’s moans and him fisting the sheets.
This night, it is Namjoon’s slow and rhythmic movement inside of his lover, Seokjin feeling the drag of it. Namjoon’s gentle hold on Seokjin and him kissing every inch of Seokjin’s skin that he can, muttering I love you as he did.
Seokjin feels the warmth of Namjoon’s skin on his. He brings the younger close to his body, moans his name in his ears, as Namjoon buries his face in the crook of Seokjin’s neck, not faltering in his movements.
“Namjoon…” Seokjin pants.
The younger holds himself up, looking at the man underneath him, writhing in the pleasure he’s giving. He looks at him like there’s honey dripping from his eyes. Namjoon gazes lovingly at Seokjin’s face that was blissed out.
“I love you… I really do…” Seokjin tells him, as if he hasn’t told Namjoon enough. Seokjin is happy to finally call Namjoon his lover. Tomorrow, when he wakes up next to Namjoon, he’ll wake up in the arms of his lover both under and out of the sheets. He reaches a hand over Namjoon’s face, the younger holding his hand, leaning into the touch. Namjoon takes Seokjin’s hand from his face and kisses it.
“I love you too.”