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The first time Seokjin offered Namjoon brownies, because he just felt like baking something and why not give this to the new person on the floor, Namjoon didn’t think much of it. After all, who is to deny freshly baked goods for free?
It has been more than a year since Namjoon moved into this new building. It is closer to his new job, pays better, has plenty of sunlight, just like how he always wanted. And without fail, every single month, Seokjin knocks on his door, smiling a bit when he hands over a tray or a bowl or a plate of whatever he felt like baking that day.
Namjoon has received it for over seven months now. He’s starting to get suspicious.
“Do you only give it to me, or do you share it around with the other residents, too?” Namjoon asked one evening when he had run into Seokjin in the elevator.
The question probably caught Seokjin off guard because his eyes had widened and then the loveliest pink blush spread across his cheeks and ears.
“They got tired of the baked goodies.”
Namjoon must have made a face because Seokjin had turned away to cough into his fist, mostly disguising his laugh.
“I don’t envy them.” Namjoon told Seokjin, and Seokjin smiled.
“I don’t understand, hyung,” Namjoon sighs onto the table where he has spread out a calendar. “It almost feels like clockwork, but I can’t figure out the next time he’ll give me the stuff.”
“Why do you want to predict it?” his hyung, Yoongi, asks.
“Because.” Namjoon huffs and averts his eyes. He doesn’t see Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Because…?”
“Listen, I’m just trying to figure out a pattern here.”
“You’re a math professor, of course you want to figure out a pattern. It’s hilarious how this little brownie is leaving you in shambles.”
Gasping dramatically, Namjoon pushes off the table. “That was your second piece! The rest is mine, you heathen! He gave them to me!”
Yoongi shrugged, munching on his third brownie since Namjoon, the math professor, seemingly could not count.
After a moment’s hesitation, he looks at Yoongi again. “Maybe he’s following a…different calendar?”
“Like what, the lunar calendar?”
“Like…a personal lunar calendar?”
Yoongi scoffs. “Namjoon, you can say menstrual cycle.”
“I don’t know if that’s true! Even if I do figure out a pattern, it feels weirdly awkward to know such an intimate detail about someone else you only know in passing, you know?”
“It is extremely weird if you do that, and he might actually think you’re a perv for thinking along those lines.”
“Hyuuung! You’re not helping!”
“But what made you consider this?”
Namjoon shrugs. “It’s off sometimes, right? Just by a few days, and that always keeps me on my toes. He never misses but it’s never the exact date, and he doesn’t bake outside of this. I’ve asked. And I have also read that a lot of people pick up on different things when they get stressed, so what if he’s stress baking? I tried to understand what such a periodic stressor could be, but I couldn’t figure it out. So, well, this was the last probable option.”
“Okay.” Yoongi nods. “I get your point. But let’s keep this as a last resort. Why don’t you check the actual lunar calendar and see if there’s a pattern first?”
Namjoon nods. It’s as good a place to look as any. At least better than the extremely private menstrual cycle.
The first time Seokjin knocked on Namjoon’s door, Namjoon forgot to breathe. Standing in front of his door was the most beautiful person he had ever seen in his life, holding a covered bowl, eyes averted, ears burning bright pink, hair slightly unkempt. Namjoon’s mouth hung open and for a moment, there was just silence, and lots of blinking, and zero eye contact.
“Um,” Namjoon cleared his throat. “Hi, how can I help you?”
Seokjin startled ever so slightly, but he plastered on a smile. “Hi, I’m Seokjin, I live in the flat at the end of the floor.” He pointed to the end of the corridor with his pretty hand. “I saw that you moved in last week. Welcome to the building!”
And he handed Namjoon over the bowl he was holding. The bowl was a bit warm, and it was covered with a red and white checkered cloth, so Namjoon carefully moved it aside to reveal warm muffins. They smelled heavenly and Namjoon’s mouth watered.
“Uh-I hope you don’t have any allergies? This has gluten and um, eggs, and stuff, so—”
“No!” Namjoon almost screamed. “I mean, no, none at all. These look amazing, Seokjin-ssi! Thank you so much!”
Seokjin’s cheeks coloured slightly and he ducked his head. “No problem-uh…”
“Oh, I didn’t introduce myself!” Namjoon slapped his forehead (ouch! That kind of hurt…) and held out the same hand to Seokjin. “I’m Namjoon, a math professor at the university near by.”
If Seokjin was impressed, he didn’t show it. Namjoon (kind of desperately) hoped he was.
“Well, I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your evening then. Bye,” Seokjin fidgeted before nodding at Namjoon.
“Bye! Thank you for the muffins!” Namjoon yelled at Seokjin’s broad retreating back and he was sure the whole floor heard him, but he didn’t care. “These are great!” He had already bit into one and Seokjin’s eyes widened before he turned around the corner to his door.
The muffins were really good. It was a wonder how he didn’t finish all six of them that very evening. Perhaps one of them had Yoongi’s name on it. Nonetheless, he tried to hide them from his hyung so prevent him from eating it but that only made things difficult. More teasing, more jabs, more stuttering about the most beautiful person he had ever seen in his life (from Namjoon).
And then, once a month, Seokjin kept giving him baked goodies like clockwork. Sometimes it was muffins or cupcakes, other times they were something more fancy like cinnamon rolls (that he and Yoongi literally—physically—fight over the last one and ended up tearing it in uneven halves and falling to the floor), or simple but more delicious ones, like cream-cheese croissants.
Seokjin told him in passing that he was experimenting more with Namjoon since he likes everything (“Not in a bad way!” Seokjin rushed to clarify but Namjoon only grinned. “You’re right, I do like everything, but only because you’re making them.” Seokjin blinked and looked away but Namjoon could see the faint blush on his cheeks through the mirrored walls of the elevator) and it always made Namjoon look forward to what treat he’ll be getting next.
And of course, the when.
After the muffins, Namjoon didn’t expect Seokjin to come back around again. Afterall, how many times can he be welcomed? But he came back, only a month after, but not on the exact date. And then he kept coming back.
After the first time, Namjoon didn’t wonder why he was receiving all this. He was just happy. But then, each time Seokjin came around, Namjoon started noticing stuff. The circles around his eyes, the forced smile, the heavy breathing, the scratched-up hands and neck.
Namjoon was worried, to say the least.
But he didn’t want to intimidate the guy away, so he kept his distance and accepted the baked goodies with the same enthusiasm as the first time, while doing his own research on the side.
This month, Namjoon successfully predicted which week he would arrive, rounding to four days. When the bell rings this month, he jumps up from his dining table where he had just printed a large copy of the lunar calendar, and almost runs to the door.
“Hi,” Namjoon says breathlessly.
Seokjin’s eyes widen. “Um, hi. Did you run to the door?”
Namjoon nods firmly. “Didn’t want to keep you waiting.”
Seokjin looks a lot worse than he did last month. Is he in trouble? Is he ill? Is Seokjin going to die soon, is that why he’s spending time baking for his neighbours?
The thought hurts Namjoon’s heart more than he realizes.
Lost in his own head Namjoon comes back to reality when Seokjin waves a hand in front of his face. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
“Ah.” Seokjin says, settling back on his heels and gives him a tight smile. “Yes, I’m fine, truly. Here is what I baked today!”
And Seokjin uncovers the lid to reveal the most heavenly apple pie of all time. It’s a tiny pie, but it looks decadent and smells like the best thing on the planet. Namjoon takes a moment to close his eyes and inhale.
When he opens his eyes, Seokjin is smiling softly at him. “I hope you enjoy this, Namjoon-ssi?”
Namjoon tips his head forward as he takes the dish in his hands, feeling the warmth seep through the metal tin and to his fingers. “I’m sure I will, Seokjin-ssi!
When Yoongi unpredictably knocks on Namjoon’s door only a few hours later, there’s only one slice left. Namjoon sighs. That is definitely going to be Yoongi’s.
He pushes himself away from the dining table and away from all the calendars spread out. He’s having trouble figuring things out and maybe his hyung can help.
Yoongi is delighted at the fact that Namjoon had saved at least one slice for him. They sit on the couch, coffees for them both, and apple pie for Yoongi.
Yes, Namjoon is sulking and mentally slapping his forehead that he didn’t think of it sooner. If he has to hear Yoongi moan about how well they go together one more time—
“Hyung, just one bite? Please?”
Yoongi turns away from Namjoon. “No, you had an entire pie, let me have this in peace.”
Namjoon sighs.
“How’s the calendar thing coming along? Made any progress?”
Namjoon’s sighs today is as uncountable as the ripples they create on his coffee. “I wish, the lunar calendar is just so…”
“Hard to understand? You can admit when things are difficult, can’t you Namjoon-ah?” Yoongi says absently while licking the whipped cream off his fork.
Namjoon glares at Yoongi and for a split second, contemplates lunging for the plate. But he sighs (again) and decides to indulge his hyung.
“Hyung, of course I can admit that things can be difficult, but nothing is unsolvable! It just takes time. And besides, it’s exam season, you know how many papers I have to stop myself crying on?”
“I bet it won’t even cross ten this year.”
“What do I get if I win?”
Yoongi shrugs. An idea pops into Namjoon’s head.
“No sharing Seokjin’s baked treats for six months.”
“That’s just mean.” Yoongi glares at Namjoon.
“Well?”
“Fine! As an atheist, I hope God gives all of these dumb kids enough braincells to work through your stupidly difficult course and get good grades so that you don’t have to cry. And I don’t have to miss out on your neighbour’s treats.”
“Excellent, now help me with the calendar.”
Namjoon always loved the moon and stars and astronomy, but never in his life had he thought that he would be up till 3 AM watching videos on how different cultures used the Lunar Calendar. There are calendars in some cultures that use both the sun and the noon, such as the Chinese Lunisolar Calendar. It takes him (and some bit of Yoongi’s precious time) to narrow down many calendars, but he divided them into two—pure Lunar (like the Islamic calendar) and Lunisolar (like Chinese, Hebrew, Hindu, etc). He overlapped them to see if there are too many differences, and then marked them so that he could have just two calendars for his project.
By the end of this one exercise, he was exhausted. He is not sure if this was the right way to go about it, but it seemed like the best way. He’s not even sure if he’s crossing any boundaries with any culture by doing so.
“I mean, it’s just the moon, how hard could it be?” Yoongi had once said when Namjoon asked him to help.
Turns out it’s quite hard.
But now that the mentally tasking bit of choosing the calendars is done with, all Namjoon has to do now is align the days of the usual Gregorian Calendar to the two that he has with him.
This is the most time-consuming activities of this entire project.
And he loves it.
It’s so fun that every evening when he returns home every evening, he looks forward to aligning a week or a month (if it’s easy enough) to the calendars. He knows that there are probably faster ways to work on it, he could easily prepare a code to align the days but where’s the fun in that?
Only almost because then the mystery of Seokjin and his baked goodies can be solved. He’s one step closer to that, and if he has a little fun in the mean time, nobody has to know.
During this time, Seokjin has come by two times more. Namjoon already gushed about the apple pie when they met at the entrance of their building one time, and subsequently the next few times that they met (it was only 2 other times, a shame if you ask Namjoon), and he hoped that the apple pie would make the regular roster.
The last two times Seokjin came around, he hadn’t made the apple pie. Seokjin shyly shares with Namjoon that he was probably disappointed, because Namjoon was probably hoping for an apple pie but Namjoon was quick to address it.
“Yes, I loved the apple pie, I would go to war for it, but Seokjin-ssi, you seriously don’t even have to do this, so I am truly, truly grateful that you’re sharing these with me.”
Seokjin clears his throat. “Well, I’m glad. I hope you like these tarts I made today.”
Namjoon’s heart flips. “Are there...lemon tarts?”
Blinking cutely, Seokjin’s lips form a natural pout that Namjoon has the immense urge to kiss and feel them against his own. He shakes his head mentally to get rid of the thought.
“There are some lemon tarts, yes. Do you like them?”
Namjoon’s heart leaps. “I love lemon tars! They have to be the most ingenious dessert ever made!”
“You must not have had many desserts then.” Seokjin seems to be stifling a grin.
“Gasp! How dare you! I’m eating the desserts you make, I don’t think anywhere else will come close to these. I just need to guard them well from my hyung.”
“You seem to have too much competition.”
“Please, you have no idea,” Namjoon bemoans dramatically, falling against the door frame. “It’s like war with him! And even though he’s like half my size, he’s so fully of dirty tricks that I never know how to defeat him!”
By now, Seokjin has thankfully stopped trying to stop himself from laughing. He is grinning widely, his shoulders shaking a bit, the tips of his ears bright pink.
“Um, well, I hope you do share it with your hyung. Or maybe you can like, I don’t know, sometimes these ideas can be so hard to reach, you know?”
The innocent blinks of his eyes are not fooling Namjoon. He shakes his head slowly. “You, my friend, are a genius.”
When Yoongi comes around the next day, he casually goes to Namjoon’s kitchen in search of the desserts disguising it as his search for non-existent food (well, Namjoon isn’t exactly skilled in the cooking department, okay?) like he always does if Namjoon hasn’t already offered them to him (either due to his forgetfulness or just protectiveness of the desserts). Namjoon is working on the calendar, and he has so far completed three months of aligning the days. He’s starting to see a vague pattern, but he wants to be sure. Besides, he even began using a lunar calendar right next to his usual one, so that he can start keep track already—
“Namjoon, you fucker!” Yoongi screams from the kitchen.
Namjoon grins as he continues his work.
Seokjin seemed to get worse before he got better, but the smiles and desserts never ceased. The desserts get more elaborate and even tastier. Seokjin even portions out to Namjoon’s “hyung” so that they don’t have to fight.
Yoongi blinks at it. “Can I marry him?”
Namjoon laughs and shakes his head. “No, hyung, I’m marrying him.”
Namjoon has often wondered why Seokjin bakes so much. He makes a list of possible reasons, and something that he keeps going back to is stress. Seokjin seems less stressed most times Namjoon has met him. But when he comes around to deliver the baked goodies, Namjoon has noticed Seokjin’s hands shaking ever so slightly, his breath slightly laboured, the smiles faintly strained, but he also seemed like he was putting in a lot of effort.
And whenever Namjoon runs into him a couple of days after, Seokjin is always full of smiles.
So, that must mean, whatever Seokjin is stressed about, it is a recurring pre-event, most likely about to occur in the next few days. If he had to narrow it down, then it would probably be the very next day.
“Does that make sense, hyung?” Namjoon asks, his face smush against the couch.
“Mm-hm, sure,” Yoongi says and Namjoon begrudgingly detaches the side of his face from the soft couch to see Yoongi scraping scream off his plate with his fingers and smacking his lips.
“Hyung, you’re not even listening.”
“I would listen if i could get another one of these scones.”
Namjoon is unimpressed. He now has a sense of when Seokjin has dropped off the desserts so far. He has a prediction for the next time, and he is desperately hoping that he’s not wrong.
If he’s right, then there’s only one more thing he’ll need to solve.
Why?
And the only one who can answer that is Seokjin. Namjoon is not sure if he’s ready to ask him.
It’s the thirteenth time (yes, obviously Namjoon has kept count, he is a math professor after all) that Seokjin has brought over desserts, and Namjoon has finally come to a conclusion.
He’s nervous when he sees Seokjin that month, but he takes a deep breath. Just before Seokjin turns around, Namjoon calls him.
“Yes?”
Namjoon clears his throat. He’s not sure which question to ask, since there are so many running through his head. He rubs the back of his neck.
“Um, would you like to come over for coffee, sometime? Or like tea, if that’s what you prefer?”
Seokjin blinks. Namjoon blinks back. That was totally not something he had prepared himself for but he’ll make it work.
He’ll solve it. He always does.
Time freezes for a moment before Seokjin ducks his head down a bit. “Sure, Namjoon-ssi, m-maybe a few days later? Say, Saturday, does that work?”
Saturday is only two days away, and since he works at a university, he has Saturdays off. “That’s perfect. I’ll come pick you up at 5!”
Seokjin giggles into his palm and waves goodbye. Namjoon’s racing heart doesn’t stop until he clutches the brownies (this time red velvet and cream cheese) to his chest, and nearly collapses against the door.
The next day, Namjoon feels restless. He goes to his university after a burnt breakfast and finger, takes his classes, grades some assignments, hangs out with his co-workers during breaks, meets Yoongi for dinner as the elder told him that he’s cooking, and then comes back home late. Through it all, there’s an unsettling feeling in his chest, like something was scratching its way through his ribs and skin, trying to escape.
“It’s called anxiety, Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi deadpans and Namjoon sighs.
“Yeah, I know, but...I just don’t know what to do about it. It feels like impending doom!”
Yoongi deposits a plate in front of Namjoon’s head on the dining table. “Tell me if you feel the same way after you’ve had your little date with you Seokjin-ssi, yeah? We’ll figure it out.”
Namjoon smiles gratefully. But before reaching for his plate, he slings an arm around Yoongi’s shoulders and pulls him down for a loud and violent cheek kiss.
“Ew, gross, Namjoon!”
Yoongi gently smacks him across the forehead and scrunches his nose. Namjoon knows that Yoongi knows that he’s grateful for the elder, so he just eats his dinner with a triumphant smile.
At 4:55 PM on Saturday, Namjoon stands in front of Seokjin’s door, fixing the collar of his shirt, hoping he doesn’t smell too bad. He showered and pumped a single spray of his mildest and favourite cologne, but he hopes it is just enough.
He knocks on Seokjin’s door exactly at 5 PM, and Namjoon could hear some scrambling for a heartbeat before the door opens. Seokjin looks...good. Don’t get him wrong, Seokjin always looks good, but today, he looks somewhat lighter. There’s a sparkle in his eyes that Namjoon has not seen. Was he relieved that Namjoon actually showed up? Was he expecting Namjoon to just...bail?
“Hi,” Seokjin says, and Namjoon forces himself to take a deep breath to speak because he was sure he had nearly stopped breathing.
“Hi, Seokjin-ssi, let’s go?”
Seokjin nods, smiling brightly as he closes the door behind him. They walk the few steps down to Namjoon’s door, and he can hear Seokjin trying to stifle his giggles.
Namjoon turns slightly, and Seokjin coughs into his fist. When Namjoon raises an eyebrow, Seokjin bits his lip.
“It’s just so cure that you picked me up from my house...to yours...in the same building...on the same floor.”
Namjoon just rolls his eyes. In hindsight, it is a bit silly, but what can he do? So, he shrugs.
“Only the best for you.”
Seokjin smiles at the ground and follows a nervous Namjoon into the kitchen. When he sees the setup, Seokjin gasps.
Namjoon spent all of Friday evening and Saturday morning thinking of ways he could make their...beverage (date?) evening a lot more fun so he converted his small kitchen space into a cafe. At the entrance of the kitchen, Namjoon had hung up a purple banner which says Mono Cafe with a wobbly moon and some stars surrounding it. His penmanship isn’t the best, but he tried.
Namjoon points Seokjin to a seat the small breakfast/dining table and stands across from him. He reaches under the table where he had stashed away an apron and ties it around his waist. Then he hands Seokjin a carefully curated menu that he designed himself on Canva, printed it out, and laminated it himself (he has a lamination machine in his home office, it’s not weird, okay?). He originally wanted to have a chalk board menu but he didn’t have time to go outside to a store to look for it, and ordering online would take time, so he went for his second option. Seokjin is smiling going over the menu and Namjoon’s heart hurts so much in the best way. He hadn’t realized it, but Seokjin had wormed his way into his heart, one dessert, one baked good, one unexpected knock on his door at a time.
“I am a disaster when it comes to cooking,” Namjoon says, fingers fiddling with each other. “But somehow, I figured out I can make excellent beverages and drinks, like different types of coffee, tea, mocktails, cocktails, milkshakes, smoothies, and a lot of stuff that you can enjoy just drinking. It’s strange, but my hyung has always encouraged me to embrace all parts of me, so here I am. But I think he did that so that I can keep making him good coffee.”
Seokjin laughs at this. “I must meet this hyung of yours.”
“Yeah, I think you’ll like him. Although, with all the baked goodies he’s had, he might steal you away from me.”
“Oh?” Seokjin laces his fingers and rests his chin on top of them. “And you would be opposed to that because...?”
Namjoon clears his throat. He wasn’t sure if Seokjin was interested in calling this a “date” and Namjoon hadn’t dared to actually call it that because, well, he’s a wimp. But now that Seokjin has opened the conversation somewhat...
“Well, I just want you to have the agency to choose.”
“Choose what? I didn’t know I had options.”
Oh, now he’s really baiting him.
“If it was up to me,” Namjoon looks at Seokjin and meets his beautiful brown eyes. “There would only be one option at this moment. Me.”
Seokjin hums non-committally. “Wouldn’t that make two options? You, and i could just...not choose you?”
Even though he looks aloof, Seokjin challenging him is...doing things to Namjoon. He has never wanted another man more. His heart beats wildly and he wills himself to calm down.
“Why don’t you decide after today evening?”
“That’s the plan.”
Namjoon grins and nods at the menu. “So, what can I get you this evening, fine sir?”
“Let me take a look.”
Seokjin decides on the monstrosity of a cold mocha frappe with all available additions, looking challengingly at Namjoon.
Namjoon wants to roll his eyes. Rookie mistake. The more elaborate the drink, the easier it can get. Namjoon hikes up a dish towel on his shoulder, offers a (hopefully) cute salute to the beautiful man in front of him, and gets to work.
Namjoon had ordered some cookies and other baked confectionary from an online bakery but, “They’re not as good as yours.”
Seokjin hums. “Good thing I brought some leftovers.”
Namjoon whips around to look at Seokjin carefully arranging some brownies from last time on a plate. How did he not notice Seokjin bringing a Tupperware with him?
“You sir, are an angel.”
Seokjin shrugs, but the tips of his ears burn red. “I try.”
They chat for a bit as Namjoon prepares the beverages and carefully gets out the fancy, iridescent ceramic mugs from his collection that have, over the years, cost him an arm, a leg, and perhaps half a kidney. They learn about each other, how Namjoon just got done with his semester, how Seokjin, who is a game developer, is starting to work on a fun, new game and how while he loves designing the game from scratch, it could also be so hectic with all the deadlines. It was fascinating to hear and Namjoon could listen to him speak all day.
When the frappe was done, he brings it over to where Seokjin is sitting and gently sets it down. “Would you like some of these delicious brownies to go with them? The baker is amazing, I can vouch for him with all my heart.”
Seokjin clears his throat as he sits up. “Yes, please, thank you.”
Namjoon grins, bringing over his own mug of simple, but exquisite hazelnut iced coffee, and two plates.
“Do you want to sit here, or move to the living room?”
“I like it here,” Seokjin says, looking around the tiny pieces of decoration that Namjoon has managed to put up. A few purple and pink streamers, artfully placed mugs, sun catchers at the window casting dotted rainbow reflections across the floor, all adding character and a sense of brightness (even quite literally) to the room.
Namjoon takes a seat next to Seokjin as they sip their drinks. He doesn’t want to seem creepy so Namjoon nonchalantly sets his mug down and sneaks a glance at Seokjin, who has a smile on his face.
“You like it?”
“I do!” Seokjin nods, eyes bright. “If I didn’t like my job so much, you and I could open a bakery slash cafe together! You could be the barista, and I could bake and we could be so successful!”
Namjoon smiles at the idea. It’s so cute that he wants to scream into the universe that Seokjin, the beautiful, amazing, Seokjin would want to open a cafe with him . This is the true 21 st century dream!
“We can always retire early and do it.” Namjoon shrugs, placing a hand close to Seokjin’s own, hoping he would get the hint.
“Yeah, you’re right. We can.” Seokjin softly places his hand on Namjoon’s, gripping his fingers lightly but looking at the way the light dances with the trees outside the kitchen window.
Namjoon holds his hand back.
For a moment, they take time to bask in the serenity and sip their drinks, feel the warmth of each other’s hands.
But the burning need to know just crawls back up Namjoon’s throat, threatening to spill out in the most undignified manner. He swallows and sets his cup down.
“Um, Seokjin-ssi?”
“Hm?”
“There is...something I would like to ask but I want you to know that you are in no way obligated to answer me! This is just something that I have been wondering for months now and—”
“Is this about why i bake every month?”
“Partly, yes. I assumed it would be due to stress. But I made some observations and noticed that you would always bring it on the day before a full moon.”
Seokjin waits.
“And I was wondering if that had anything to do with your baking.”
Heaving a sigh, Seokjin takes a long gulp of his coffee, wiping away the remnants from his upper lip. He also moves his hand, but Namjoon holds tighter.
“Just so you know, nothing you say can make me take back my feelings.”
“So, it’s true then? The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach or some such?”
“The way to this man’s heart is by being you, Seokjin.”
Seokjin rolls his eyes at Namjoon’s words but his cheeks are tinged pink and he’s not making eye contact. He’s so cute that Namjoon is about to combust.
Then Seokjin’s shoulders slump, and he sighs. “You know how there are stories of people who used to be shifters, three-four hundred years ago?”
Namjoon nods. This is not news to him. Although he’s not sure how much of him is a shifter, he knows there have been a few in his family. He just never bothered getting a test done since he was never interested in it.
“Well,” Seokjin clears his throat, resolutely looking at their intertwined fingers. Namjoon’s grip tightens slightly. “Turns out my wolf side is stronger than most people’s and well, there are some residual effects that affect us during full moon nights. Like our ancestors did.”
Namjoon waits, he doesn’t want to interrupt him. When Seokjin doesn’t say anything, Namjoon prods. “Does it hurt?”
Seokjin whips his head up. “What?”
“However it affects you, does it hurt?”
Swallowing, Seokjin doesn’t shake his head. “I just have urges, I don’t transform or anything. If the full moon is strong, my fingers might turn into weak claws and those are the only times I hurt myself, but otherwise...there’s just a lot of anguish. An urge to run freely through the woods, sleep, howl, even. It differs from person to person, but I guess it’s common for us to feel...loneliness, I guess? All of us feel it, even as children, even when I was thoroughly loved. My mom said it’s just in our nature, and that sort of sucks, honestly.”
Namjoon rubs a soothing thumb over Seokjin’s hand. “So, it does hurt.”
He gives Namjoon a one-shouldered shrug. “It gets manageable over time but, I guess some months are worse than others.”
“And the baking?”
“Oh, it’s like pre-syndrome, I usually get so stressed for absolutely no reason that I need to release it somewhere and I discovered as a child that baking was the best way, so I guess it’s more habitual now.”
Namjoon smiles in relief. “You know, I had a hunch you were stressed, but I was thinking about the wrong cycle and I’m glad you shared this with me.”
He lifts Seokjin’s hand to kiss it tenderly, while Seokjin chuckles wetly.
“Wrong cycle? Namjoon-ssi, did you really think I was a menstruating person? Tell me, which menstruating person has such a perfect cycle in their lives, huh?!”
Namjoon opens and closes his mouth. “I-I don’t know! Shifter theory didn’t even occur to me!”
And then Seokjin is laughing, beautiful and free, and Namjoon is laughing along with him, and he feels so light, so content. Sitting in his kitchen, with the soft evening golden light of the setting sun, he kisses Seokjin’s perfect lips for the first time and feels like he belongs there. He feels...happy. And he would not trade this for any kind of dessert that Seokjin makes.
Okay, he might reconsider for his apple pie, but otherwise, Namjoon would like Seokjin to be secure in his own arms.
Seokjin, the beautiful, talented, smart, witty, amazing Seokjin, wo could be—no, who is —the love of his life.