Archive of Our Own ^beta

Namjoon reads the back of the package carefully, then opens it and lays out its contents.

Four shades of yarn.

A little square envelope.

And a crochet hook with little Koyas printed on it.

“Okay,” Namjoon says. He opens the envelope and follows the directions to the video tutorial. “Okay,” he says again, and pushes play.

Someone else (Jungkook, say, or Taehyung) would have picked up the starter yarn, pressed play on the tutorial, and, well, started. Namjoon is not that person. He watches every video in the tutorial, taking notes in English and stopping a few times to look up the translation for some crafting terms he doesn’t understand. This may or may not lead him down a rabbit hole on the different ways to make what they call a “magic circle.”

An hour or so later, he’s exhausted all research options (except some open browser tabs with books on the history of crochet) and is forced to actually pick up the yarn.

An hour after THAT, he rips out - oops, “frogs” - another row and grinds his teeth in frustration. He picked Koya because all the websites said it was the easiest BT21 character to start with. That’s probably true, and it makes it all the more humiliating that he’s only gotten to round six. Especially since rounds one and two were already done. He takes another deep breath and reminds himself that he hasn’t broken anything (yet).

He’s so focused on getting his stitches exactly placed that he doesn’t hear his studio door open. He startles so badly he almost drops Koya-in-progress when Jimin asks, “Hyung, are you coming to dinner? Jungkook won rock, paper, scissors so it’s samgyeopsal of course.”

“Oh. Uh,” Namjoon says intelligently.

Jimin comes up beside him. “Or are you busy, because…” His eyes drop to the hook in Namjoon’s hand, the yarn in his lap. “Hyung?”

Namjoon flinches internally, waiting for a laugh.

But instead, Jimin says, “Wait, is that Koya? Are you making Koya?” He picks up the bag with a finished crocheted Koya smiling out from the front. He flips it over, brows scrunching together as he looks at the English. “Is this knitting?”

“Crochet,” Namjoon says, repeating it in English and Korean. He waves his hook in the air for emphasis, and watches in horror as the yarn falls off. “It’s nothing. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid, it’s cool!” Jimin says. He rubs the yarn between his fingers. “It’s not fuzzy like in our commercial.”

“It’s made specifically for beginners.” Namjoon imagines trying this with something harder to work with and shudders.

Jimin leans a hip on Namjoon’s desk, next to the scattering of Koya pieces, and looks at Namjoon with a faint smile. “Having a hard time, hyung?”

Namjoon leans down and rests his forehead on his desk. “What gave it away?”

Jimin settles a hand on the back of Namjoon’s neck, rubbing gently. “Just a guess.”

“My hands are so big,” Namjoon says, still facedown on the desk. “Why did I think I could do a delicate thing?”

“Don’t you do delicate things all the time?” Namjoon looks up as Jimin turns an imaginary dial. “When you write songs and use production equipment.”

“That’s not the same.”

“You’re just used to those. It’s just experience.”

Namjoon looks mournfully at the pile of blue yarn. “That was kind of my idea. This one is supposed to be the easiest.”

Jimin keeps rubbing the back of Namjoon’s neck, and Namjoon sighs.

“I guess I’ll keep trying.”

“You will. After samgyeopsal, maybe,” Jimin suggests.

“After samgyeopsal.” Namjoon carefully places Koya’s components back in the bag and drops it into a drawer holding various branded merch he keeps meaning to give away.

***

Namjoon does not get back to it after samgyeopsal. In fact, by the time he finally does, he has to watch the videos again. The information comes back to him pretty quickly, especially since the book he just finished was a history of crochet that included a lot of explanations on how to actually do it. (He’s halfway through the one on the history of Korean fiber arts. It's a little less helpful, but even more fascinating.)

But apparently remembering how it works doesn’t translate into muscle memory. He frogs everything back to the beginning again, looks down, and takes a deep breath. It’s like studio equipment! the Jimin in his head tells him in an encouraging tone. You can do this. Stitch by stitch.

It’s a little more like two stitches forward, one frogged, but he keeps going. At some point the stitches become a little easier, his progress a little less glacial. He hardly notices, still frowning into each stitch, but at some point he stops increasing his stitches each row and starts decreasing them instead.

…and then he’s stuffing an almost-round, almost-Koya-shaped thing. He stuffs and stuffs and stuffs, does two more rows (possibly the hardest, since he’s pulling the yarn against the stuffing, and then, “Fasten off,” he mumbles to himself. “Wait, really?”

Really. The body is really done.

It's an instant blast of serotonin. He hasn't fully finished Koya, there are ears and a nose and whatever, but still!

He texts a photo to Jimin. Not done, but look!

Jimin texts back almost immediately. you did it!!!! so proud, hyung!!!!!

Namjoon feels slightly abashed that Jimin has such an outsized reaction, but given his struggles, you know what? He'll take it. He crocheted! Good for…himself.

The delight carries him through an endless-seeming number of magic loops, but his deep dive earlier saves him, and without (much) further ado, he’s sewing the last piece on.

With his tongue between his teeth, he embroiders Koya’s eyes and mouth. What should he - oh! He grabs his phone and holds Koya up, imitating the expression, then navigates to Instagram.

“Did you make a Koya?” Jungkook asks him the next morning. He’s looking at his phone as they gather around a pre-shoot breakfast buffet. “Hyung, did you make a Koya?”

“I did. They sent me the BT21 crochet kits - the Woobles - and I thought I’d give it a try."

“Are you going to do Cooky next?” Jungkook asks. At Namjoon’s hesitation, his mouth draws down into a familiar pout.

Namjoon sighs. This is getting away from him somehow, he can just tell.

To rescue himself from Jungkook's nuclear level pouting, Namjoon starts Cooky the next afternoon. He brings the work in progress to dinner after practice and waves it in Jungkook's face…only to melt a little at the wide, wondering eyes the maknae turns on him.

Everyone else perks up, too, and starts talking about “their” piece, and it's a little overwhelming but a little inspiring, too.

He's in it now.

**

The first problem with Cooky comes when Namjoon gets too cocky (ha) and lets the loops get too big. He tilts his head, whispering numbers as he counts up what the larger row will be…and shakes his head hard. Nope.

Frog, frog, frog, frog.

The second he brings upon himself - he makes the mistake of looking down when Cooky’s ears are, uh, vaguely flesh-colored protuberances…and once he's seen it, he can't unsee.

Jimin calls almost immediately after receiving the photos.

“I didn't do it on purpose!” Namjoon half-shrieks into the phone in lieu of a greeting.

“Who else crocheted an obscene Cooky? I wasn't in the room!”

“It's not obscene!”

Jimin's silence speaks for itself.

“It's…evocative?” Namjoon tries.

There's a thump that long experience tells Namjoon is Jimin's phone hitting the bed, and peals of laughter.

Namjoon puts his face in his hands. “It'll be fine once I stuff it?”

Jimin howls some more. “Tell me I can come over and make fun of it in person,” he demands.

Namjoon groans. “Only if you bring chicken.”

“A small price to pay.”

Jimin does get some more laughter in after he arrives, but he's Jimin, so Namjoon just laughs along with him.

They plow their way through the chicken, clean up in a way that would warm Hobi’s heart, then sit back on the floor in front of the coffee table. Namjoon is trying to stuff Cooky's…parts, tongue caught between his teeth as he tries to judge the appropriate sizes, while Jimin hums to himself and occasionally giggles.

After a while Jimin yawns loudly, then again. Namjoon reaches up to pat the couch cushion. “Get on the couch before you sleep funny and mess up your neck.”

“What if I want to sleep funny?” Jimin asks, but follows along until he's lying on the couch, forehead pressed to the back of Namjoon's shoulder.

Namjoon carefully stitches, keeping his shoulder as still as possible as Jimin's breathing evens out against his back.

According to the website, the next hardest kit is Tata. Namjoon puts Cooky next to Koya on a shelf in his studio and unpacks what feels like three miles of red yarn and two teeny tiny eyes.

“How do I…what do I…?” he mutters, leaning on one elbow as he squints at the phone. He hits “play” on the tutorial and watches it intently.

Jimin messages him a few days later. i haven't seen any wildly inappropriate crochet pieces in a while, any progress?

Namjoon eyes the red curve of yarn lying on what has become the crochet shelf. Let's not jinx it, he replies.

He can hear Jimin laugh from a distance.

Tata is definitely harder! The first curve of the heart is fine, but Namjoon is sure he'll never connect the second half without it looking terrible. And, once everything is connected (poorly), it doesn't stand up on its own, no matter what he tries.

Namjoon shows off his mostly-finished mostly-blob to Jimin. “You’ve become my crochet confidant,” he half-laughs.

Jimin, of course, looks past the joke. “You’re upset about it.”

“Taehyungie is so artistic, and he makes such cool things, and here I am, making a--” Namjoon tries to set Tata up, and it immediately falls down and rolls to the edge of the shelf. “Making that.”

“Okay first of all, I can't count the number of times Tae-Tae has come up with some project or another and we've all watched him in shock while he does the least predictable thing. Right?”

“But they turn out in the end!”

“Usually,” Jimin said, waving his hand. “But no matter what, it never ends the way you'd expect.”

Namjoon gave Jimin a flat look. “Are you making an argument that a crochet piece that rolls on its side when you try to stand it up is some kind of artistic triumph?”

“I'm making an argument that it's something special that Taehyungie will adore. Besides.” Jimin takes Tata and wedges it into the side of the crochet shelf, between the wall and Cooky. “There's more than one way to stand up, hyung; it's okay to lean when you need to.”

“This seems remarkably philosophical for some yarn,” Namjoon says, and Jimin giggles.

The memory of those giggles gets Namjoon the rest of the way through Tata, and when he's done, he wedges the little heart right back where Jimin did.

“What the fuck,” Namjoon says. He looks at the pattern again. Nope, still there. “Single crochet, increase, half double crochet - whatever the fuck that is - double crochet, double crochet increase…and it keeps going?”

He pushes the yarn and his phone away. There has to be a better use of his time in this studio somewhere.

He dumps a couple days’ worth of clutter in the garbage, sorts some old beats into better organization, even does a quick Weverse live.

The yarn stares at him balefully throughout it all.

Finally he grumps his way across to the shelf. “Fine. Fine.” He picks the yarn and hook up and navigates back to the tutorial on his phone. “Fuck you, half double crochet. Here we come.”

It’s terrible. He frogs it a good four times before he finally accepts that it’s as good as it’s going to get and moves on to the next row. Surprisingly, it’s only two rows that are complicated as fuck, and the rest uses mostly techniques he’s already learned.

As he gets progressively less grumpy - easier the farther away he is from the stitches from hell - he thinks about something that's been occupying his mind a lot lately. He thinks about Jimin: telling Namjoon he’s capable of handling delicate things. Laughing at whatever silliness Namjoon sends him. Telling him his crochet heart is good enough and that leaning on others is okay.

Namjoon sets Shooky down for a moment and picks up the bag with Chimmy on it. He stares at the photo on the front for a long time, not even sure what he’s looking for. He sets it back down and goes back to Shooky. Crochet, if it’s not driving him up a fucking wall, turns out to be a great way to turn his overthinking down to a dull roar and contemplate some things.

…something millions of crafters have learned before him, probably, but it’s very useful.

Namjoon is fighting his way through a single crochet/decrease pattern on top of RJ’s head when Jimin gives a perfunctory knock and codes himself into the studio. “How was dance practice?” he asks.

“You’ll know soon enough,” Jimin says, laughing.

“Ominous,” Namjoon says without looking up; if he loses track right now, he’s going to have to re-count the whole row.

Jimin comes up behind him and rests his chin on Namjoon’s shoulder. “Ooh, RJ!”

Namjoon accepts his counting fate and holds RJ up to Jimin’s sightline. “It looks pretty good, doesn’t it? I can see where I’m getting better.”

“You’re getting a lot better!”

Namjoo snorts. “Let’s not go too far.”

Jimin reaches out and traces one of the bumps on RJ’ head. Without really thinking about it, Namjoon takes Jimin’s hand and--just holds it in midair. Well, now he feels stupid. He starts to let go, but Jimin holds on and brings their joined hands down to rest on Namjoon’s chest.

Namjoon can feel himself smiling foolishly.

Jimin brings his other hand around until he’s hugging Namjoon from behind. “Hyung,” he says softly, and puffs a laugh against the back of Namjoon’s neck.

“Yes?” Namjoon asks, setting RJ in his lap so he can hold onto Jimin’s forearm.

He can feel Jimin’s smile. “You’re doing much better than you think,” Jimin says.

“Okay,” Namjoon says, and holds on, barely daring to breathe.

Mang is the hardest of them all, but Namjoon doesn’t mind. He only works on Mang when Jimin is around, sitting on Namjoon’s office couch reading on his phone, or practicing what dance moves he can in the small space, or sitting on the floor next to Namjoon watching him stitch and smiling whenever Namjoon looks up.

And as soon as Jimin leaves every day, Namjoon sets Mang aside, opens a drawer, and pulls a different project out from behind some tangled up headphones.

“Everyone,” Namjoon says to the group sprawled in various shapes on the practice room floor. “Don’t leave yet.” He sees some of the staff hesitate on their way out; he waves them all away. He doesn’t want to do this in front of cameras, he’s nervous enough already.

“Oh no,” Jin says.

“What do you mean, oh no?” Jungkook asks him. “It could be something great.”

“Or it could be something else to do.” Jin shoves Jungkook’s hand away. “Stop poking me.”

Before that can degenerate into a slapfight, Namjoon raises his voice. “It’s not something to do. I have something for you.”

Taehyung cheers. Hobi claps. Yoongi raises an eyebrow.

Namjoon gets up, concentrating on how sweaty and sore he feels so he doesn’t think about being nervous. “Do you remember the Koya I made?”

“Hyung,” Jungkook says, breathless, holding out both hands to accept the Cooky Namjoon gives him. “You really did make them for us?”

“My son!” Jin cries, holding RJ up. He jiggles the alpaca head over to Jungkook and gently bops Cooky with it. Jungkook laughs and bops back.

“They’re great, hyung, thank you!” he says.

“Tata?” Taehyung turns a beseeching look onto Namjoon and Namjoon sighs and hands it over. Taehyung sets it upright on his hand, where it immediately falls over. Namjoon’s saved from sighing again when Tae laughs and tilts his hands so Tata rolls in a bumpy circle across them. He looks absolutely delighted.

Yoongi accepts Shooky, which also doesn’t stand upright, but doesn’t try to set it up in Namjoon’s line of sight. “Nice,” he says, peering at it. “Nice work, Namjoon-ah.”

“Thanks,” Namjoon says. He’s fighting the urge to blush.

Hobi coos over Mang, petting his yarn mane. “How long did it take you to do these?”

“Hyung worked hard on them,” Jimin pipes up from where he’s leaning against the mirror.

“Hyung did,” Namjoon agrees. He drops down next to Jimin and digs around at the bottom of his bag. He pulls out Koya - he felt bad leaving it behind, for some reason - and finally Chimmy.

Jimin must have known what was coming, but he looks as poleaxed as if he’d never seen him crochet before. “Chimmy,” he says, cradling the little yellow ball.

“I hope you like it,” Namjoon says awkwardly. He fights the urge to tell Jimin not to look at the wonky eyes. Or the line of Chimmy’s mouth, which Namjoon had done three times to keep it from looking like a tinpot dictator’s moustache. Instead he just smiles and basks in the way Jimin beams back at him.

“I take it back,” Jin says magnanimously. “This is a good reason to keep us here. Thank you for my son, Namjoon-ah.”

The rest chime in further thanks and praise until Namjoon slumps down next to Jimin and hides his face in the sleeve of Jimin’s sweatshirt.

“Okay, that’s enough, you can leave now,” Jimin says, and surprisingly they do in a flurry of laughter and chatter about their gifts.

“Can I come out?” Namjoon asks finally.

Jimin laughs. “Yes.”

Namjoon raises his head. They’re alone in the room, actually; the staff must have followed the other members out. “Thank you for saving me,” he says. He knows by Jimin’s smile and little bit of a blush that he understands what Namjoon really means.

Jimin is still looking down at the Chimmy in his hand as he puts his other arm around Namjoon. He touches Chimmy to the Koya Namjoon is holding in his lap, gently bumping their noses together. “Any time, hyung. I like when you lean on me.”