Chapter Text
If his eomeoni were to ask what Namjoon’s life in Seoul is like, he would offer her a semi-truth; the classes at University are nice, the professors are harsh, his TA work isn’t too demanding and his colleagues aren’t the menaces she feared they would be.
The part of classes and professors is true, but Namjoon knows his mother enough to picture the absolute disarray she would turn into if she knew he works 6 hours a day for half minimum wage at an online magazine and also shares an apartment with a pothead and a party-boy who more than enjoys bringing his one-night-stands home. Namjoon doesn’t mind, of course; his room is full of purifiers and he is a very heavy sleeper. He barely catches any glimpses of the women Hoseok routinely has around, and as for Seokjin’s chimney habits, he thankfully keeps it in his own room (most of the time, at least). If he had to have that conversation with his eomeoni, those are the arguments he would use.
“I don’t really think she’d give a fuck, Joon-ah,” Hoseok says one Saturday afternoon, dressed only in the usual crochet pink sweater his ex-girlfriend made for him as a Christmas gift he refuses to pass along. It’s stupid because it’s far too warm for him to be dressed in it, but Hoseok also refuses to talk about it, so Namjoon won’t be the one to push it, especially considering his own ex-girlfriend drama. Hoseok has one leg crossed over the other on the yellow armchair Seokjin dumped in their apartment claiming it to be a vintage piece when they all know it’s just an old thing his cats back home scratched up the sides of and did a very poor job in covering up. “You’re twenty-three. You’re old enough to drive, to drink, to even get married if you so wish.”
Namjoon scoffs, throwing a cushion in his direction with one hand while the other firmly holds the cup of coffee he’s been clinging to for long enough to become lukewarm. His friend giggles, grabbing the cushion with one hand and pressing it against his practically naked crotch.
“Great, now I’ll have to wash that, too. Why are you so gross?”
Hoseok offers him a smile, spreading his legs even wider. Namjoon grimaces.
“You know what I think?”
“No, and I really don’t want to.”
“You need to get laid,” Hoseok reasons despite Namjoon’s very obvious and clearly set boundary. “When was the last time, huh? Jieun broke up with you ages ago, bro, it’s time to move on and get that dick wet. Or hole. I don’t judge.”
Namjoon sighs, taking a sip of his coffee and regretting it immediately; why does he always forget to drink it before it turns disgusting?
He doesn’t like to talk about Jieun, especially because she has clearly moved on and there’s not much in this life worse than still pining over someone who could not give two flying fucks about you. His ex-girlfriend is partying, kissing, fucking, having the time of her fucking life and he’s what, waiting for trash day and washing underwear with his barehands because the washing machine broke? It’s pathetic. If it was up to Namjoon, he would take the coward’s way out and move back home.
“Well, thankfully I am your master and I command you to stop being such a fucking pussy and get out there.”
“We don’t use that word anymore,” Namjoon replies quietly.
“What?”
Namjoon sighs again, putting his mug down to stare at the mess of clothes he left on one side of the couch. “We don’t use the word pussy like that anymore. It’s derogatory to women.”
“Fine,” Hoseok says, lifting his hands. “Stop being a fucking scrotum and get out there. You’re in your early twenties. There are plenty of vaginas and cocks for you to put your mouth on.”
With yet another heavy sigh, Namjoon nods.
“But please don’t use that language around my eomeoni when she visits.”
“I’m a gentleman,” Hoseok lights up a cigarette. A smirk appears on his lips as he blows out the smoke. “Your eomeoni thinks of me as a saint. She probably believes I have a purity ring. I would never say the word scrotum around her.”
Namjoon starts to fold his laundry. His eomeoni definitely does not think Jung Hoseok of all people has a purity ring, but he keeps his mouth shut. Silence falls around them as easily as light rain pours from the sky. The advice (if you can even call it one) that Hoseok had given rings in Namjoon’s ears. Maybe he should take a step forward and find a way to actually move on from Jieun. She’s done it and he’s the only one still stuck wallowing over a four year relationship that obviously took him nowhere.
“I think maybe I should make a MySpace profile,” he mutters rather abruptly, and Hoseok’s on his laptop in less than a heartbeat. Namjoon narrows his eyes at him, but doesn’t say anything; if there’s one person who can settle a profile better than he does, it’s, well, Jimin, but he’s probably too busy sucking Yoongi’s face right now so Hoseok is the third best thing. “Just, please, don’t put all my info in there…”
“It draws attention!” Hoseok argues, but one piercing look from Namjoon makes him slump his shoulders and sigh. “Fine, then. 23; age, not dick size, art lover, journalism major, 180cm, Park ook lover…”
“This is not a dating website, Hoba, you don’t have to do all that.”
“MySpace is whatever you want it to be, Joon-ah.”
Namjoon shakes his head, resuming the folding of his laundry. What a terrible, terrible idea. And yet, despite knowing it to be a recipe for disaster, he does nothing to stop Hoseok. Worse; after he’s done with the clothes, Namjoon stands behind him and watches, mostly silently, as his best friend adds people Namjoon has never seen in his entire life as Friends.
“What happened to meeting people randomly in the middle of the street?” He mumbles.
“It’s as dead as Princess Di,” Hoseok replies, then stops for a second. “May she rest in peace.”
There’s a knock on the door.
Namjoon frowns immediately; he isn’t expecting anyone, let alone at this hour. And because Hoseok pays little to no attention to the sudden guest, Namjoon guesses he isn’t expecting anyone either, so, a little begrudgingly, he walks around the room to get to the door.
Drenched in water from head to toe, Jeon Jungkook shakes and stares like a deer caught in a rainstorm. He’s wearing a cap and a big coat that was clearly meant to shield him from the rain, but hasn’t done a very good job at it. His eyes are wide, as if he hadn’t been expecting Namjoon to open the door for him despite Namjoon living in the apartment the boy has been knocking on the door of.
“Shit, you got caught in a Summer rain.”
“Oh, hello,” Jeon Jungkook basically screeches. “You. I-uh, thought Hobi-hyung would be alone.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint,” Namjoon replies in what he expects to be a light enough tone to be understood as a joke, but Jungkook’s cheeks blush a little too hard, so he probably didn’t get his point across, which, to be fair, happens maybe too often. “Please, come in, you’re fucking shaking.”
Jungkook steps inside, removing his boots and his coat. Namjoon helps him to put the items in the rack beside the door.
“Technically, it’s not Summer yet,” Jungkook says, quietly, cheeks still heavily flushed. “It’s June 7th and Summer only starts June 21st.”
“Okay,” Namjoon replies. “Pre-Summer rain, then.”
Jungkook presses his lips together in what Namjoon thinks is supposed to be a smile and then just stands there, next to him like a Sims character, just waiting for someone to tell him what to do.
“Jungkook-ah, go to my wardrobe and put on something warmer,” Hoseok shouts from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the armchair, laptop over his thighs. “We’re setting a MySpace profile for Namjoon. He’s finally decided to stop being a whiny loser and move on from Jieun.”
“Seven out of ten words out of your mouth are an insult to me.” Namjoon flops back down on the couch. “Are you sure I’m your best friend?”
“If you weren’t, I wouldn’t insult you.”
Jungkook’s so silent as he walks past them into Hoseok’s bedroom that Namjoon barely notices he’s gone. When he comes back dressed in a brown shirt twice his size, he takes a seat on the other armchair, hands over his legs, deer eyes still wide as he looks down at the back of the laptop.
“Should I lie and say you’ve graduated from University already?” Hoseok muses (clearly to himself) as he types. “Should I say you’re 1.82cm? It’s just 2cm, people won’t notice the difference.”
Namjoon doesn’t even feel like dignifying that with an answer. He remains sat next to Hoseok, but doesn’t look at the potential disaster his roommate is building for his profile. Instead, he keeps his eyes on Jeon Jungkook because it bugs Namjoon a bit how he’s always so silent around him. The boy seemed so cheerful despite the rain and his smile immediately disappeared when he saw it was Namjoon and not Hoseok opening the door for him.
They haven’t talked much at all since meeting a few months ago, so Namjoon doesn’t think Jeon Jungkook has any reason to dislike him. But then again, sometimes people just don’t click. Maybe that’s the case for them. Silently, he hopes Hoseok has no wish to go to the bathroom for the next hour; it would probably actually be mortifying for the both of them to be alone in the same room. They would have nothing to talk about. As far as Namjoon’s knowledge goes, he and Jeon Jungkook have nothing but Jung Hoseok in common and the Art as Business class.
“Should I say you’re interested in men and women?”
Namjoon huffs. “If you want me to get fired, sure.”
“You’re right,” Hoseok sighs in a very obviously upset pout. “But how else will you meet a twink to fuck in a dirty bathroom of some Itaewon bar you need to know some shady people to get into?”
“Dude, you’ve got to stop listening to the shit Jimin tells you about gay people.”
“Is the dirty bathroom sex thing a lie?”
Namjoon scratches his neck. “Not really…”
“So why are you being a little shit about it?”
“But all he has to do to achieve that is to go to an Itaewon bar and take someone to a dirty bathroom and have dirty sex with them,” Jeon Jungkook mutters, voice small. “He doesn’t need MySpace for that.”
The reply is so unexpectedly funny that both Namjoon and Hoseok just fucking stare at him for long seconds before bursting out laughing. And despite the clear everlasting blush on his cheeks and the way he taps his feet on the floor in an obvious sign of anxiety, Jeon Jungkook smiles too.
“I didn’t know you were that funny, kid,” Namjoon beacons.
“I’m not a kid,” Jeon Jungkook corrects him, a tiny frown between his often smooth eyebrows. “And you don’t really know me, so how could you?”
If he hadn’t said it so softly, so cutely, Namjoon might have taken it as a rude response, but he doesn’t think Jeon Jungkook is capable of being snarky. He might not really know him, but he does know that from the limited interactions they’ve shared.
“I have an idea!” Hoseok exclaims, closing his laptop’s lid, promptly ignoring the entire exchange that just happened. “We should dress up and go to Itaewon to find a man for Namjoon to have protected sex with in a dirty bathroom.”
“That is a terrible idea,” Namjoon sighs, rolling his eyes. “I’m not like that, Hoba. I don’t just– fuck people. Besides, we have exams coming up in literally two weeks.”
“Who cares about school, we’re all doomed, anyway. Just be that person tonight,” Hoseok insists. “Be that person once. Jungkook and I support it, don’t we?”
Jeon Jungkook gulps down, his frown getting deep, but his blush getting somehow deeper. Namjoon can’t deny that the kid (scratch that, the man) is a bit adorable.
“Sure. We support it.”
“So you’re coming, too?” Namjoon asks teasingly, lifting one eyebrow toward the sophomore. Jungkook quickly nods, a tiny pout in his lips. Cheeks still flushed, eyes still big. Maybe that’s his natural state; Namjoon doesn’t recall ever seeing him look any different. He remembers asking Hoseok, who’s a senior, just where he found time to befriend a 20-year-old who just got into University last year and his response was actually quite obvious; the dance studio. “Okay, then. Have you ever been to a club before?”
Jeon Jungkook frowns in a way that looks more offended than confused. “Of course I have, Kim Namjoon-ssi. Probably more than you.”
“Oh, shit,” Hoseok laughs, clapping his hands in that exaggerated way he does best. Namjoon smiles too, nodding his head and lifting his hands as if asking for peace. “Jungkookie’s an adult, you idiot, and a very responsible one, too. That’s why he will be our designated driver.”
“Wait, what?” Jeon Jungkook exclaims, moving a little forward on the armchair. “But I wanna drink, hyungnim.”
“I know, darling, but I wanna drink more and Namjoon doesn’t know how to drive.”
Jeon Jungkook takes his eyes from Hoseok to Namjoon.
“You don’t know how to drive, and you’re giving me shit for being a sophomore? Dude…”
Namjoon laughs wholeheartedly, crossing his arms. That’s the most Jungkook has ever spoken to him at once. “I think I like this kid.”
“I’m not–”
“A kid,” Namjoon finishes for him. He offers Jungkook a sly smile. “I think we’re gonna be good friends, Jungkook-ssi.”
Jeon Jungkook blinks. “Really?”
“Yeah, why not? You’re always hanging around Hoba now, and I’m also always hanging around Hoba, so let’s be friends. May this club experience be our friendship initiation. And, please, start calling me hyung from now on.”
The sophomore’s eyes shine just a little bit as he nods and offers Namjoon a tiny smile.
At first, all the club offers Namjoon is the opportunity to see Hoseok deny every single man who makes a move on him and apologize profusely for being straight every single time it happens.
His friend’s drunkenness is fun to watch when he, himself, is just a little buzzed. A few men do make passes on him, but Namjoon turns them down. The idea of moving on by having dirty bathroom sex seems so outwardly to him, so far removed from the person he’s always been, that he just… can’t. He’s been in love once, and that one time lasted four years. Namjoon doesn’t think he’s still in love with Jieun, but that doesn’t mean he’s ready to be in love with anyone else.
“And Hoseok always says it’s not about love, just sex,” Namjoon’s basically yelling in Jungkook’s ear as Hoseok dances with a couple guys who definitely want to have a threesome with him. “But is it wrong that I prefer intimacy? I had been with Jieun since I was 19, like, a year younger than you are now. Do you get me, do you have someone? Wait, I don’t even know if you’re straight, or gay, are you gay? Or bi, or whatever.”
Jungkook slurps on his soda, blue and purple lights flying over his boyish features.
“I don’t know,” he replies over the music. “I know I like boys, and maybe I had a crush on a girl in high school, but it’s all very new to me, in general. My parents were really strict.”
“I thought you said you had been to more clubs than me.”
“I probably really have,” Jungkook continues in the same loud tone over the music, taking one more sip of soda, full of deer eyes and flying neon colors. “I graduated a year early from high-school, it sucked seeing all my colleagues go out to drink and me having to stay behind during freshman year. So as soon as that clock turned midnight on New Year’s Day, my friend Mingyu, who wasn’t even a freshman yet, by the way, we met in dance class, too. Anyway, January 1st Mingyu shoved me inside a nightclub and I’ve been going pretty regularly all year.”
“All five months.”
“I’ve been going pretty regularly for all five months and a week,” Jungkook adjusts his statement. “You might think it’s not a lot, but three times a week at least. Do the math.”
“You’re the business major.”
“Journalists can’t do math?”
Namjoon has a giggle, the wish to rush his hand over Jungkook’s brown hair growing a bit too strong because of the alcohol. He takes another sip, a big one, and his world tilts just a little to the left. Ah, fuck, Namjoon should really try to find a one night thing with someone. It would probably do him good to be that person just for tonight.
“I should tell intimacy to go fuck itself, shouldn’t I?” Namjoon mumbles, half to Jungkook, half to himself, but with such loud pop music, he hardly thinks the younger one hears it. He raises his voice; “I’m gonna kiss the next guy that hits on me, that’s it.”
The silence that follows his sentence makes Namjoon take a look to the side. Jungkook’s drinking his soda in large gulps, eyes on the crowd. If he were sober, he would probably ask if the boy actually didn’t even hear him, but since Namjoon is not and Jungkook has just been promoted from acquaintance to friend two hours ago, Namjoon just shrugs and finishes his own drink.
“The next guy,” he repeats, now totally to himself. “The very next guy.”
Squared glasses, soft smile, plaid t-shirt, pink cheeks. The guy approaches Namjoon with a wave and offers him a beer. He mustn’t be much older than him, or maybe even his own age. The guy isn’t particularly attractive, but Namjoon isn’t sober and he did say the very next guy, so…
“Yeah, sure,” he agrees. “A beer sounds nice.”
Namjoon takes a look at Jungkook, silently asking him if it is okay if he left, and Jungkook immediately nods, shoulders slumped.
“Have fun,” he tells Namjoon. “I’ll– you’ll find me later.”
“I will,” Namjoon promises with a smile. “Designated driver.”
And when Jungkook smiles back, Namjoon’s drunken brain thinks it’s a little crooked.
Namjoon’s safely back on his bed at 2am that night, with a hickey blossoming on his neck and the promise of a hangover in the morning.
As his eyes drift closed then back open, he watches as Jeon Jungkook places his wallet and his phone on his nightstand, and leaves the door ajar on his way out. The living room light is on; maybe he thinks Namjoon could be afraid of the dark. That thought makes him chuckle, alcohol flowing through him in a way it hasn’t in a while, and definitely not like this. That squared glasses dude Namjoon isn’t sure he caught the name of was a bit brute, so different from Jieun’s soft kisses... Maybe now it’s truly time for Namjoon to explore more of his bisexuality. He had only kissed one boy before he fell in love with her, and now he has kissed two.
Both sucked. Hopefully the next one won’t.
Because of the semi-open door, Namjoon sees the exact moment Jungkook exits the apartment, locking the door from the outside and sliding the key under it. It stops right next to one of Namjoon’s shoes. He smiles again. What a nice kid.
“No, no,” Namjoon mumbles to himself, giggling like an idiot. “What a nice man.”
After the nightclub and all the oversharing he did, Namjoon kind of expects things to feel weird around Jungkook, but they don’t. If anything, the two of them only become closer. He’s a TA and Jungkook has been in one of the classes he assists for since the beginning of the semester, so now they wave hello and goodbye and even exchange a few words going in and out of class.
With the semester’s final exams coming up, it feels kinda nice having someone who actually gives a shit about all of this to talk to, since neither one of his roommates seem too preoccupied with the end of the semester. Hoseok’s only in college as an obligation, and Seokjin already has a job that pays well, so, what else can one beg for in such a climate?
But a week short from finals, as he drowns in grading papers, Namjoon’s headache is only the second thing killing him that Friday morning; the first being an essay he was suddenly advised by one of his professors to write for Cornell University during Summer break. Apparently, they are offering a masters scholarship to one lucky student from the communications departments from top Korean Universities, and Namjoon’s professor believes he has a chance to win, considering his grades, his extracurricular activities and his work as a TA for the past couple years, not to mention the part-time job he has at a small online magazine. Still, it sounds ludicrous to even think about, but if there’s one thing Namjoon doesn’t do is disagree with Jung Minseok-gyosunim.
Meaning, on top of grading his colleagues' pre-exam tests, and studying for his own exams, Namjoon now has his head full of thinking about a scholarship he isn’t even sure he wants. The deadline is September 20th, with them deciding who won by late October. So, starting from then, if he got picked, Namjoon would have two months to pack up his belongings, say his goodbyes and move to the other side of the fucking world to start his masters during their spring semester. Hell, only a week before he was not-so-strongly considering taking the coward’s way out and moving back to Chuncheon and now he’s perhaps a bit-more-strongly considering moving to America?
“It sounds like a good opportunity,” Yoongi, his older and often more knowledgeable friend comments when Namjoon brings it up. “Despite your constant whining about moving back home, you’re just afraid of failing, it has nothing to do with actually being attached to Korea, and that fear of failure only worsened after the Jieun breakup, may I add…”
“Well, I went to the club the other day with Hoseok and Jungkook and I hooked up with someone,” Namjoon states, hating when Yoongi reads right through him. “I’m considering taking that up during Summer.”
“Taking that up?”
“Yeah, casual hookups,” Namjoon explains with a shrug. “Hoseok’s idea.”
“Hoseok’s a fool like you,” Yoongi states, but does so softly it almost doesn’t sound like an insult. “Besides, that’s not how you get over someone, Namjoon-ah.”
Namjoon rolls his eyes, grabbing another pre-exam essay to grade. “You’re only one year older, stop acting like you’re Gandalf or something.”
“I’m already doing my masters and I am Gandalf, you are correct.” Yoongi takes a sip of his drink and doesn’t even make a face. “Look, do whatever you want with your dick after finals, but please also seriously consider this scholarship opportunity. It’s still June, you have a lot of time to think about it and make a decision. Your professor literally told you to write the essay over the Summer, and you won’t be grading any papers for three whole months. There’ll only be that part-time job at the magazine, and you’ve always nailed that. A masters opportunity in a top American University isn’t a small feat, so at least take the upcoming heatwaves to think about it, alright?”
With a heavy sigh, Namjoon agrees. “Alright, hyung, I will.”
It’s something Namjoon has noticed even before he was formally introduced to Jungkook as Hoseok’s new friend; how Jungkook always seems to not be paying attention at all to anything being said by either him or the professor during the Art as Business class he’s a TA for, but his grades, somehow, are always between 88 and 100.
Namjoon has been impressed by that all semester, but now that he kind of knows him and they have been pretty regularly hanging out since that night at the club all of eight days ago, he takes the new found closeness to bring it up to him during the final week of classes before exams and they are both full of books in a corridor filled with students. Blushing, as always, Jungkook shrugs.
“I’m dedicated,” he explains. “I can do whatever I set my mind to.”
“Including scoring 97 on a test whose classes you only paid 15% of attention to.”
Despite it not having been a question, Jungkook nods. “Yeah, hyung, including that.”
It’s impossible not to smile. Jungkook has that effect on him; he says everything so cutely, so nonchalantly, all Namjoon can do is smile. They walk together to the library, where Hoseok awaits them at a table full of books and a murderous look in his eyes that doesn’t match his personality at all.
“Need help, hyung?”
Hoseok looks up at Jungkook. “Baby, I love you, but if a sophomore could help me with this, I would kill myself.”
“He’s very smart, Hoba,” Namjoon argues as he pushes some of Hoseok’s books aside for his own. “Don’t underestimate Jungkookie.”
“I’m not underestimating his smarts,” Hoseok sighs, then whines, throwing his forehead on top of the open book he had been trying to read. “I should’ve just become a street dancer like I wanted to.”
Jungkook has also sat down, right next to Namjoon. He puts his books on the only blank spot on the table and pets Hoseok’s hair.
“Just these final exams, and then one more semester,” Jungkook comforts him. “You and Namjoon-hyung will graduate in February and then you’ll be free.”
“Free to enter the corporate world and hate ourselves even more,” Hoseok’s muffled complaint finds their ears. “There’s no escape from this nightmare, Jungkookie. No escape.”
And because he isn’t wrong, neither Jungkook nor Namjoon offer another word of encouragement. In silence, they study for their finals, or try to, at least.
The library encounters become frequent during the next week as they study for different exams; Jungkook’s a business major, as is Hoseok, but they are in different years. Namjoon is a journalist major, therefore, can only help with his incredible inputs and general interest in art pieces, which is only one of the classes Jungkook’s taking, so he isn’t much help at all.
Still, despite not being able to actually assist each other, during that week, they always sit down to study together. It just makes sense, considering the fact they more often than not end up having drinks and spicy ramen at Seokjin’s expense at the end of the night. As previously established, his other roommate is a grad-student and already has a successful job in some big company, so truth be told, Namjoon has no idea why he still lives with them, but he provides, makes a lot of jokes, smokes pot and doesn’t complain about them eating his food, so Namjoon is platonically in love with him.
Exams come and go, and, as expected, Namjoon passes them all with flying colors. Before he exits Jung Minseok-gyosunim’s classroom for the last time that semester, the professor pulls him aside and asks Namjoon to update him on any decision he makes on whether he will be applying for the scholarship or not, and offers to help out with the essay even during Summer break, if he so needs. With a hard swallow, Namjoon bows to him all 90 degrees and thanks the older man for having so much faith in him.
“You’ve been here four years and have given me all the reasons to,” the professor replies.
Namjoon isn’t the type of person to not give a shit about ego boosts, especially academic ones, so he goes back home in a good mood only to find Hoseok halfway through a bottle of Jack Daniels he most likely can’t afford and Jungkook next to him, patting Hoseok’s back.
“He failed a class,” the younger man lets him know. “I told him it isn’t a big deal since his workload for the final semester isn’t filled yet, but he feels like shit.”
“I’m sorry, man,” Namjoon offers truthfully, sitting on the carpet next to Hoseok, a hand on his shoulder. “What can we do to help?”
“Take me out, of course,” Hoseok huffs. “What is done is done. Classes are over until September, so we should just forget about school for the next three months, get drunk and have sex at least four times a week.”
“That sounds like a self-destructive path, besides, I still have a job to go to, remember?” Namjoon mutters, smiling at him. “But we can discuss the amount of times a week we’d, or at least you, would be doing all of that later. We can go out tonight. Should we invite the lovebirds?”
Hoseok shrugs, so Namjoon takes his eyes up to Jungkook. “What about you, 100s across the board, I’m sure.”
“Well,” Jungkook pats Hoseok’s hair. “You know me.”
“Not really,” Namjoon mutters, offering him a witty smile. “But I guess we have all Summer to change that, yeah?”
Jungkook blushes that same way he did when he got to their home drenched in rain, only two weeks ago. He still doesn’t really look Namjoon in the eye when they talk, but that first (even if months long) impression he had at first that Jungkook somehow didn’t like him is now gone. The past couple weeks and constant library study sessions have taught Namjoon the younger man is simply shy, and all he needs is to get himself out of his shell a little bit.
“Yeah, we have all Summer for that,” Jungkook agrees.
Hoseok sighs heavily. “Enough talk, call the lovebirds, call Seokjin and also that guy he’s been seeing, what’s his name?”
“Taehyung.”
“Yeah, call all of them, let’s fucking party!”
Hoseok gets up swiftly, moving to the bedroom and locking the door. As silence settles in the living room, Namjoon realizes that the fear of being left alone with Jungkook he had short 14 days ago becoming true now has become true, and he doesn’t feel that awkward about it. He chuckles as he finishes Hoseok’s drink. Namjoon winces, shaking his head as the fire spreads down his throat.
“Not a whiskey kind of guy?” Jungkook wonders. Namjoon shakes his head again. “Yeah, me neither. I prefer beer.”
“Me, too.”
There. Turns out they do have more things in common than just Jung Hoseok and the Art as Business class.
They go to another gay club that Friday night, June 20th, only a short day away from the actual beginning of Summer; Namjoon remembers Jungkook’s words well, but doesn’t feel the need to comment on it. Everybody must know Summer starts the following day, anyway.
It takes Hoseok about fifteen minutes and two shots of vodka to forget all about school; with all his friends around, he has a blast getting hit on again, and even kisses a couple men, which shocks everyone to the absolute core.
Taehyung, newer to the group than Jungkook himself, had been chosen as designated driver alongside Yoongi, so Namjoon gets to see Jungkook drink for the first time that night. He doesn’t drink much, only a cup of beer or two, but Namjoon doesn’t keep count, anyway; he’s truly decided to follow Hoseok’s advice, as foolish as Yoongi thinks it is. Sure, moving on from a four year relationship by sleeping around is hardly ideal, but he’s 23, about to graduate college and possibly embark on an adventure on the other side of the planet; the least he can do for himself is explore his bisexuality by indulging drunk men who think he’s sexy enough to buy him a drink.
It’s not really a surprise to Namjoon when he wakes up the following morning with a pounding headache and the faint memory of getting jerked off in a dirty Itaewon bathroom, but whatever shame he could possibly allow himself to feel is completely drowned out by Hoseok’s accounts of the previous night events of him hooking up with not one, not two, but three men, and his blatant insistence he merely did it for the experience, but also how much more fun he would have if he was attracted to men.
“Unfortunately, I’m still straight,” he decides over their 1pm breakfast.
Namjoon can’t say the same. He would never admit this to him out loud, but Hoseok had been right. All he needed was an actual kickstart and lack of school responsibilities to worry about. With the Summer heat on his skin and perhaps way too much alcohol in his system, Namjoon quickly makes a habit out of hooking up in dark clubs and club bathrooms; turns out that jerking off strangers comes rather naturally to him. But when it comes to full-on sex… Well, Namjoon wouldn’t do that just anywhere with anyone. Call him stupid, but that type of intimacy doesn’t come as easily to him.
“How was it last night?” Jungkook asks as he slurps on the second bowl of a ramen that does not belong to his kitchen and wasn’t bought with his money. But, oh, well. It wasn’t bought with Namjoon’s either. “You disappeared after a while.”
“I did, yes, with a girl this time, if you can believe it.” Namjoon takes a sip of his soda. “We went to a bar and talked for a while, but you know women are different, they don’t usually— well, put out quickly, and I’m just… Well, I’m in the mood for fleeting things right now.”
“Yeah?” Jungkook glances at him before taking his eyes back to his food. “Before, uh, before classes ended you said you didn’t wanna do that.”
“I know, but Hoseok was right. Don’t tell him that, though.”
“I won’t,” Jungkook promises, smiling softly.
Namjoon takes a seat, shrugging. “I don’t know, it’s just… I did get out of a four year relationship earlier this year and it stings because it was a forever thing, you know? But you always do when you’re in it for so long, I guess.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, hyung,” Jungkook mutters, then stops. “Unless you’ve totally moved on and think it was for the best, in the end.”
“It probably was,” Namjoon says, keeping his eyes on Jungkook’s soft cheeks as he chews on the ramen. “For her, anyway.”
“Jieun, right?”
“Yeah.” Namjoon swallows. “Prettiest girl you’ll ever meet. Smartest, too.”
Jungkook stays silent for a moment, eating slowly, eyes on his food. Then, he looks back up at him.
“It’ll come a time when it doesn’t sting as much. You’ll remember it for what it was, and in your heart it’ll only exist in a dull ache, not an open chest wound.”
Namjoon blinks. “Damn, Jungkook-ah, that was deep.”
“Not that deep,” Jungkook cleans his mouth with the back of his hands, frowning slightly. “I think I read that somewhere.”
“Deep enough,” Namjoon insists, reaching out and touching his hand briefly. “Thank you, though. You’re right. I’ll just keep going to the club and making my body count larger, I guess. Oh, speaking of, did I tell you about this guy who wanted to go on an actual date and then asked if I wanted him to jerk me off in the restaurant’s bathroom?”
“You didn’t.” Jungkook’s big deer eyes keep away from Namjoon’s. “But did he?”
Namjoon chuckles, taking another sip of soda. He doesn’t reply, but he hopes his sly smile is enough of an answer. Jungkook goes back to eating his spicy ramen.
June turns into July in the blink of an eye, and despite his previous decision to not study during the Summer, the Cornell essay is always in the back of his mind, so, to drown that out, Namjoon starts some of the books he should only be opening mid-September. Thankfully, he isn’t the only crazy one.
Jungkook has started to go to Namjoon’s and Hoseok’s apartment even when Hoseok isn’t there. He added Namjoon to his MySpace account a couple weeks back, but doesn’t really interact with him through the Internet. He says he is more keen to talk with people face to face.
And since he has four roommates, Jungkook prefers to spend most of his time there instead of his own apartment. Namjoon doesn’t blame him. In fact, he enjoys sitting in silence with Jungkook as they study. Several cups of coffee, a few snacks, some remarks about any whatever thing here and there. They spend a lot of afternoons like this in July. Hoseok is there sometimes, but it’s mostly just the two of them.
Jungkook’s majoring in business, but he’s decided to take some classes in the communication department next semester, so Namjoon helps him however he can; he hadn’t expected to do a TA’s job during Summer, but Jungkook is his friend, and the hours revising his own subjects helps with the final thesis he’s supposed to be delivering in January. Besides, Jungkook’s is just… easy to talk.
He doesn’t blush nor goes silent when he sees Namjoon anymore, so maybe it was truly just a matter of shyness due to lack of familiarity. Despite keeping honorifics, sometimes they talk like same age friends; Namjoon has three years on him in age and two years in University studies, but the younger man is so clever that this barrier often feels inexistent when they are studying together.
It’s a new routine, in a way, and one that Namjoon greatly appreciates and quickly grows accustomed to. Focusing on that, his dates, the clubbing and his job takes over all of his thoughts as the Cornell essay sits with only a single paragraph written in his laptop, and the emails his professor sends every three days are replied to politely, but shortly.
Namjoon still isn’t sure if he wants to uproot his entire life. He’s a stellar senior and he has alright job opportunities aligned here in Seoul for when he graduates. Namjoon could very well start his masters here instead of on the other side of the world and excel at it all the same. Doing a BA-MA seems simpler than moving abroad. Simpler, yeah, simpler, but is it better?
He sighs heavily.
“You okay, hyung?” Jungkook asks, lifting his head up from his notes. He grabs one of the apples Hoseok had jokingly put on the table earlier and takes a bite, chewing slowly. “We can take a break.”
“I’m fine.” Namjoon doesn’t like to lie, but he hasn’t talked to anyone but Yoongi about this opportunity yet. Doesn’t know how to. “But a break would be nice.”
Jungkook closes his notebook right away, taking another bite of the fruit.
“I hate that one,” Namjoon comments as soon as Jungkook starts liking his mint chocolate chip ice cream. The younger man blinks at him, eyes wide. “It’s just not good at all.”
“You’re crazy.” Jungkook turns back to the sunset, resuming the ice cream slurping. Namjoon keeps his eyes on him for a couple more seconds before turning to his own ice cream scoop; his favorite bland flavor of vanilla. “Hm, I think I’m going to need one of these every day this Summer. Too fucking hot.”
Namjoon looks at him again. He isn’t sure he’s ever heard Jungkook curse before. Probably, right? It would make the most sense. Jungkook swirls his tongue around the ice cream, a couple sweat drops going down the side of his cheek. Namjoon swallows, eyes back on the sunset.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Too fucking hot.”
Whenever they go to nightclubs, Namjoon’s often so involved in his own search for someone to hook up with that he doesn’t pay much attention to his surroundings, but tonight, after all five people that hit on him were either rude or very ugly, he decides to sit back and watch his friends instead. Could he go find someone to make out with? Sure, but he isn’t in the mood to do the work. So, watching his friends will have to do.
It’s not a gay club this time, therefore Hoseok’s eating some girl’s face, and Seulgi’s kissing some other girl. Mingyu, Jungkook’s friend of the same age, is flirting with someone, also a girl, in a corner. And Jungkook, who is almost always their designated driver, is enjoying the fact that they decided to take cabs home tonight. He’s in either his third or fourth can of beer, and there’s a boy chatting in his ear. Jungkook’s smiling at whatever he’s saying, but it doesn’t seem genuine.
Namjoon’s seen Jungkook’s genuine smile a handful of times this Summer, and that is not it. The sight of them makes Namjoon chuckle, because Jungkook’s doing what Namjoon did the first time they went out together, but Namjoon had never seen the younger man let someone talk his ear off with the purpose of scoring.
What was it that Jungkook told him that first night? Something about going to nightclubs ten times a month. Has he kept that up during school break? Because of his part-time job at the magazine, Namjoon doesn’t go out as often as Hoseok, who’s definitely chosen the self-destructive path this Summer, much less the sophomores, or freshmans like Mingyu, who most likely drags Jungkook everywhere. Is it normal for Jungkook to let men chat him up like this, or is he trying something new, just like Namjoon has been doing all month long?
After taking a sip of his beer, Namjoon watches as Jungkook turns his face to the side and kisses the man. He hums, lifting one of his eyebrows. Namjoon watches them for a while; can’t help himself for some reason. He had never seen Jungkook kissing anyone before, and he looks pretty, kissing that guy. Not too desperate, nor too soft. Just… pretty. Sensual, even. Namjoon frowns, a weird feeling settling in his chest. He looks away, taking a deep breath before downing the rest of his beer.
Rethinking his decision to sit back and watch, Namjoon reasons it’s best if he goes back to the dance floor. Maybe there’s a pretty girl or boy here he should take home tonight, go all the way. No dirty bathrooms, no superficial intimacy. Just raw, nameless desire. Namjoon glances at Jungkook again, at how the stranger is pulling him toward the entrance door. Right. If Jungkook, someone who was raised by strict parents and has only started to attend clubs that same year can go home with someone he doesn’t know, then why can’t he?
Namjoon locks eyes with a foreigner. Big, broad, blue-eyes, blond. Perfect. He tilts his head to the side, lifts his drink in a toast and waits. The man smirks, saying something to the girl next to him before approaching Namjoon slowly.
“Annyeonghaseyo,” he says in a broken Korean. “Do you speak English?”
“That depends,” Namjoon replies in perfect English. “Who’s asking?”
The man smiles widely. “My name is Elijah.”
“Well, Elijah, you can buy me a drink, then, and find out just how much English I know.”
Elijah laughs. “Deal.”
Their July study sessions continue, and their breaks turn braver every time Jungkook suggests one.
This time, he gets Namjoon to go to the University’s pool, and insanely, Jungkook manages to convince him to take swimming lessons with him. Well, he manages to convince Namjoon to get inside the pool with him and flop around like an idiot to the amusement of every other person in the vicinity.
Namjoon isn’t a bad swimmer, he’s just not a good one, and ten minutes inside that pool prove this fact beyond reasonable doubt. Jungkook’s all red from laughter and wet from, well, the water, with his hair pushed back, trying to convince Namjoon to swim a little more. The denial is firm, and that only makes Jungkook laugh harder. When Namjoon suggests the younger man only brought him there to make fun of him, Jungkook vehemently denies.
“I just wanted to see you shirtless, hyung,” Jungkook jokes, turning around to swim to the edge of the pool before Namjoon can reply.
He pulls himself up and Namjoon watches him like he did that night at the club, but it could not be more different here. There are no strangers sweet talking Jungkook, kissing him and managing to get the man to go home with them. There are no neon lights, no leather jackets, no blasting music and no alcohol. There’s just Jungkook, as shirtless as Namjoon, as wet as Namjoon, with his beautifully tanned skin under the scorching sun of late July. And although keeping his eyes on Jungkook as the younger man grabs a towel to dry himself does make Namjoon feel something odd in his lower belly, he can’t either look away or in good conscience put a name to that sensation.
Ultimately, he decides it’s time for him to leave the pool, too.
When Jungkook passes him the semi-wet towel, he mutters:
“I’m gonna teach you how to properly swim one day.”
“Is that a promise?” Namjoon questions, drying his hair. “If it’s a promise, you gotta keep it.”
“It’s a promise,” Jungkook confirms before flopping down on one of the reclining chairs and keeping his eyes on Namjoon the entire time it takes him to dry himself and sit on a chair next to him. “And don’t worry, hyung. I always keep my promises.”
“I bet you do.”
Getting fired from his underpaid part-time job wasn’t included in Namjoon’s plans for that Summer, but as he takes the bus back home, he wonders about the chances of that being a blessing in disguise.
His Cornell essay sits unfinished still, and he hasn’t talked about it with anyone besides Yoongi yet. In his mind, talking about it makes it real, and Namjoon remains unsure if he wants to make it real. Every time he calls his eomeoni, the words get trapped on the tip of his tongue because he knows what she would say; go.
And it shouldn’t be hard to leave, should it? As soon as his CSAT’s came out and he had a high enough score to enter SNU, he could not have packed his bags and left Chuncheon faster. Once, when he mentioned his hometown in passing, Jungkook’s eyes went big like they often do, and he said he was born in the Gangwon province, too. After the initial shock, both of them agreed that Chuncheon is a pretty town, but the mountain side wasn’t made for either of them. They needed more, even if they still don’t know what that more is. Well, at least Namjoon doesn’t.
But if he isn’t made for Chuncheon’s smallness, then, what is Kim Namjoon made for? Seoul? New York? Does this place, this University, this life he’s building for himself, fulfill the itch in him? Would moving to America and getting his masters in Cornell do the trick? Is he indecisive because part of him still thinks of the life he was meant to have with Jieun? Is he upset she moved on faster, found her own calling quicker? He was told she moved; Japan. Got an offer to be a correspondent there. Could Namjoon do it, too, if he set his mind to it?
Does he want it?
What does he want? Where is he running towards? And most importantly, is he willing to leave behind everything he knows to chase it?
After he throws himself on his living room couch in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon with nothing to do and a very quiet ambience all around, he grabs his phone and dials the first number that comes to his mind.
“Hyung?” Jungkook mutters, voice small and dripping in surprise. “Is everything alright?”
“Just got fired.” Namjoon looks up at the ceiling, phone firmly pressed against his ear. “Are you busy right now?”
“No, I– I’m sorry about your job,” Jungkook offers, voice a little bit higher. “I’m not busy. Do you want me to come over and bring soju?”
“Please.”
“I’ll be there soon.”
Jungkook’s cheeks flush the most when he’s drunk and happy. He likes to tilt his head back to laugh, sometimes even claps his hands together as if the sound coming off his lips isn’t enough to express the intense joy he’s feeling. When Namjoon makes a comment on how his giggles make him sound like a little kid, Jungkook rolls his eyes and denies it.
“You’re a man,” Namjoon clarifies, head resting on a cushion, eyes on Jungkook’s flushed cheeks. “That laughs like a little kid. Take pride. It makes you look cute.”
“What if I don’t wanna be cute?”
Namjoon shrugs, taking his eyes to the ceiling. “Be whatever you want. You’ll excel at it.”
He blinks slowly. Namjoon feels so drunk. What time is it? Did he get fired that morning or the morning before? Days seem to blend in together so easily in the Summer heat.
“Can’t be whatever I want,” Jungkook finally replies. “If I could, I’d be an artist.”
“What kind of artist?”
“A photographer… filmmaker. I don’t know, but something to do with cameras.”
Namjoon hums. “We should start taking pictures, then. Have we ever? I don’t think so.”
“We don’t have any pictures together,” Jungkook whispers. “But I’d like to have some, hyung. I’ll bring my camera tomorrow.”
“You’re gonna take pictures of us studying?” Namjoon chuckles, and moves to sit up. His eyes find Jungkook again, but his head also spins a little, so Namjoon rests his back on the couch. The man sprawled on the armchair shakes his head. “What pictures will you take, then?”
“Of you smiling. Of us drinking. Of Hoseok pretending he’s not enjoying male attention.”
Namjoon snorts out a laugh before standing up to grab another pair or cold ones in the fridge. The two of them hadn’t started to drink alone; Seokjin and his boyfriend Taehyung were there, too, but after drinking perhaps way too many cans of beer they decided to lock themselves in Seokjin’s bedroom.
“Aren’t they being very quiet?” Namjoon questions, offering Jungkook one can. “I mean, Hoseok’s usually the loud one… Well, he makes girls get very loud. Like are you fucking her or killing her kind of loud.”
Jungkook coughs around the beer, laughing as the liquid dribbles down his chin. Namjoon smiles, shaking his head as he grabs a cloth someone left behind at the center table and cleans Jungkook’s neck. He doesn’t know what possessed him to just reach down and do it himself instead of offering the cloth to Jungkook, but it probably has something to do with being drunk.
The younger man’s laugh dies in his throat as soon as Namjoon’s hand is against it, though, which only makes Namjoon smile more. “Your cuteness is a weapon.”
“Is it?” Jungkook whispers, Adam’s Apple bobbing. Namjoon’s eyes linger, his hand does, too. He stares at Jungkook’s neck, at his lips and the mole he has under it. “Hyung?”
Namjoon blinks, moving away. He sits back down on the couch and opens his beer can, eyes on the object as it sweats in his hand. “Don’t forget to bring the camera, we really should eternalize this summer.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook agrees in another whisper. “We really should.”
Ever since he moved to Seoul, Namjoon knew he would have to fend for himself and work hard to keep up; with his tuition, his classmates and also life in the big city.
He’s achieved all of that. Namjoon has excelled in every area he was supposed to and then some more. That’s something it didn’t take him long to realize was true for Jungkook, too. The man is good at everything; literally everything. After they get a bit more than drunk on soju the afternoon Namjoon got fired, Jungkook managed to stand up, wash his face, sit down with Namjoon’s laptop on his lap and write down an essay for one of his business classes Namjoon didn’t pick up the name of.
Ever since that day, the two of them started to meet up not only to study, but just to drink and hang out. Namjoon learned Jungkook is an orange belt in taekwondo, a stellar swimmer (since he offered to be a teacher, that one felt like a giver) and a great singer. One day, at the end of July, he manages to convince Jungkook to go to a karaoke room and belt out everything, from Shin Seunghun to Mariah Carey and he sounds perfect in every song. It is truly remarkable to see. Namjoon thinks he even sheds a tear or two, but he blames that on the alcohol.
His newly acquired post-break up-slash-Summer habits haven’t changed much, however; every time he’s not with Jungkook, Hoseok, Yoongi or studying for classes that haven’t even begun yet, Namjoon still chooses to spend his time hooking up with strangers in dirty bathrooms or comfortable beds. It is surprisingly easy to let go of the idea of dates before sex after the first time he does it. He doesn’t really talk about this aspect of his life anymore unless it’s with Hoseok, because he’s scared his friends would be a little judgemental.
But, as Summer goes on, Namjoon trusts himself to be smart enough to be fully aware that all the coping he’s performing by fucking random people and all the running away he’s doing not to finish the Cornell essay that isn’t even guaranteed to take him anywhere can’t last much longer. It’s August already, and he has less than two months to make a decision. Therefore, the call he has been postponing all Summer feels kind of inevitable on a very hot Sunday afternoon after he spent an entire morning hydrating himself out of a hangover, sheets still messy and wet from the man he had fucked the night before that had thankfully not stuck around after the deed was done.
With a yawn, Namjoon dials his home’s number. The one to pick it up isn’t his eomeoni, but his sister, Haeun. She seems annoyed at the sound of his voice, but Namjoon doesn’t have time for her teenage petulance.
“Let me speak to eomeoni.”
A grunt is followed by a bit of shuffling and, a minute or so later, Namjoon’s eomeoni is on the line. She’s sweet and kind, asks if he’s eating well, complains he doesn’t call enough and asks when will he visit next; it’s less than 3 hours away by train and you’re not even working right now, she reminds him, which Namjoon deems a good enough moment to move away from his lack of good son duties and failure as a member of this capitalistic society to tell his mother about his internal turmoil and the decision he has to make.
She listens in silence, humming here and there as Namjoon lists the pros and cons of such a drastic change. When his monologue is finished, all his eomeoni says is:
“Everything will be well if you just trust your gut, Namjoon-ah.”
After taking a deep breath, Namjoon asks:
“Any less ominous advice to offer, eomeoni?”
His mother chuckles.
“It is a top American University. Your professor seems to believe you have a great chance of getting this scholarship. Besides, it is only for a couple years. You can always come back home when you want to. And if you don’t, if you find yourself happier there, then stay. Like I said, you just have to trust your gut.”
The call lasts for a few more minutes. When he hangs it up, Namjoon stares at his closed laptop and thinks. For minutes, for hours, for an eternity. And when he’s done thinking, Namjoon grabs his laptop, opens the lid, clicks on the halfway written Cornell University essay and starts typing.
Unsurprisingly, August is hotter than hell itself.
Tank tops, shorts and three different rotating fans don’t seem enough to keep sweat from clinging to Namjoon’s skin.
“We need to go somewhere,” Hoseok whines. “At least take full advantage of being so hot!”
And that’s how Jimin arrives at the idea of them taking a day trip to the beach and everyone is quick to buy their train tickets. Everyone meaning the new expanded friend group Namjoon has found himself a part of; the lovebirds, Jimin and Yoongi, the chimneys, Seokjin and Taehyung, and the perpetually single but never alone trio, Hoseok, Jungkook and himself.
“Are you dividing us into sub-categories?" Namjoon scoffs on the way, staring at Hoseok’s sunglasses. The train thankfully isn’t full, it being a weekday, so everyone was peacefully excited about the day ahead of them.
“Subunits,” Hoseok corrects, lowering his shades to look between Namjoon and Jungkook, who’s sitting right next to him, deleting photos to open space in his camera’s memory card. “You two better not start dating, I can’t be on a subunit by myself.”
Namjoon smirks. “What if we had a threesome? I know you’re dying to know what it feels like.”
“I’ve had threesomes, smartass,” Hoseok rebuts, lifting an eyebrow.
“Not with a man you haven’t,” Namjoon reminds him. “And Jungkookie and I are two men.”
“I am aware of how basic math works,” Hoseok smiles, shaking his head. “You’re an idiot.”
“Come on, you’re the one who told me to get out there, let’s have a threesome, I can’t stand you not realizing you like dick anymore!”
Hoseok truly laughs now, throwing his hat on Namjoon, who can’t help the laughter from bursting out of him too.
“Even if I did I wouldn’t fuck you,” Hoseok says.
“Yeah, that would be gross,” Namjoon agrees.
“Jungkookie, on the other hand…” Hoseok trails off, eyes going to the younger man. When Namjoon turns to his side, he sees Jungkook’s cheeks flushed. Ah, just how God intended. “I’m joking, I’m joking!”
Jungkook smiles softly, eyes on his camera. “I know you’re joking, hyung. I know you both are.”
Silence settles for only a few seconds before Jimin removes his earbuds and stares Hoseok down to say; “Dude, you seriously still think you’re straight?”
“Ah, here we go…” Hoseok sighs and the rest of the train ride is filled with the overwhelming amount of evidence against Hoseok’s straightness given by every single one of the other six men, and by the time they arrive at Eulwangni beach, Hoseok hums to himself and says; “You know what, you boys do make a great case… I will think about it further, your honors, and get back to you at the earliest possible.”
That morning and afternoon are majestic, and Namjoon is glad Jungkook’s there to register it all. His camera never stops snapping, and he gets every shot possible; Hoseok performing handstands, Jimin and Yoongi holding hands, Taehyung smoking, Seokjin drinking watermelon juice, Namjoon smiling as he attempted to read the book he had brought.
“Let me take a picture of you,” Namjoon says eventually, extending his hand for the camera, looking at him as Jungkook blocks the sun from his view. “It’d be absurd if you were not in any of these, right?”
Jungkook chews on his bottom lip. “I don’t really like having my picture taken.”
“Just one?” Namjoon asks. “Please?”
“Alright…” Jungkook gives him the camera and stands there, dressed in a thin white t-shirt and blue shorts, hands shoved deep in its pockets. He swallows, looking to his left, then back at Namjoon. “Are you not gonna take the picture, hyung?”
Namjoon nods, licking his lips as he looks down at the camera in his hands. “Yeah, of course I will, but, uh, you’re blocking the sun.”
“Ah, right,” Jungkook hums, smiling a bit. “Because with the sun behind me, the picture will turn out a bit dark and all.”
“And you totally knew that and were counting on me not caring enough to,” Namjoon lifts an eyebrow, getting to his feet and moving to stand behind Jungkook. “Turn to me, come on.”
With a heavy sigh, Jungkook does, and his sun-kissed skin is shining with the two layers of sunscreen Seokjin had put over his beautiful features, brown hair flying against the wind. The tip of Namjoon’s fingers tingle as he takes the camera and places it in front of his face.
He looks at Jungkook through the lenses of it and thinks that, no matter how good of a camera it is, it won’t be able to fully capture the extent of his beauty. Namjoon snaps a photo, then another, and in the third, Jungkook jumps forward to take the camera from him, but Namjoon’s hand is faster, placing the camera on his back, out of Jungkook’s grip.
“Give it to me!” He asks, trying to take it. “Hyung!”
Namjoon shakes his head, laughing freely as he starts to sprint. “Catch me if you can!”
“Who’s the kid now?” Jungkook shouts in a laugh. “Hyung, come back!”
“Catch me if you can!” Namjoon repeats, racing over the sand, under the scorching hot sun, looking back every three seconds to make sure Jeon Jungkook is still chasing him.
Thankfully, he is.
The sun makes August burn into September rather quickly.
Namjoon continues to study with Jungkook almost daily, and sometimes even Taehyung and Jimin join them. They go to the beach one more time, but just the perpetually single but never alone trio. Several more pictures are taken, and Namjoon even manages to convince Jungkook to take one together. He places his arm around Jungkook’s shoulders and brings him closer as Hoseok snaps the camera not only once, but a total of three times. Namjoon makes sure they are doing a different pose in each one.
Ten days later, Jungkook gives him an envelope with a copy of all the pictures from both beach days and Namjoon quickly goes through them, fingers brushing over his and Jungkook’s smiles as they stand in front of an ice cream shop. He also finds the ones he took of Jungkook, including the third one, where Jungkook’s hand is almost fully on the shot.
“I get to keep all of these?” Namjoon asks.
“Yeah,” Jungkook confirms. “I made copies for everyone. But, uh, these three pictures of us… I just made two copies.”
“Smart choice; it’s only us, after all.” He looks at him. “No need for anyone else to see it, right?”
Jungkook swallows. “Right.”
“Are we gonna study today?”
“Well,” Jungkook starts, sitting across from him after placing two other envelopes on the table, with Hoseok’s and Seokjin’s names written on them. “I was thinking I could make due on my promise to teach you how to swim. Summer’s almost over, school is almost back and we are almost out of time.”
Namjoon feels something heavy on his nape, mind going to the essay he had perfected with professor Jung in August and now has been sent to Cornell. Maybe they really are almost out of time.
“Sure,” Namjoon agrees easily, breathing it out in a smile. “Let’s go back to the pool.”
That afternoon, Jungkook teaches Namjoon how to float. He places him on his back and holds him half above the water, half under it. Namjoon’s ears are covered by it, but he still can hear Jungkook’s voice at a distance.
The younger man is telling him how he learned to swim; the first time he got into a pool, Jungkook was only ten months old. His eomeoni’s sister had drowned at the age of five, so it was very important to his mother that he knew what to do if he were ever left unsupervised.
“It only takes a moment, sometimes,” Jungkook says. “For everything to change. It truly only takes a moment.”
Namjoon, staring at the open sky, feels his chest hurt. “I’m so sorry about your aunt. I know you never met her, but people linger. As long as your eomeoni remembers her, she’s alive. Her loss is felt.”
“And that’s how we keep floating, uh?” Jungkook hums. “We keep people alive inside us when they go.”
“That’s all we can do.”
Jungkook shifts a bit in the water and Namjoon feels the light touch of his hands disappear. He closes his eyes and tries to breathe easily, to keep himself in place without assistance. He lasts all about five seconds, but once he reemerges, Jungkook’s smiling. “Let’s go again.”
The following afternoon, Jungkook holds onto Namjoon’s arms and teaches him how to properly kick his legs underwater. It requires a lot of muscle strength to hold a very panicked human being as they flop around like Namjoon pathetically does at first, and that’s how the information that Jungkook’s a black belt in Taekwondo is revealed.
“Are there any more things I don’t know about you?” Namjoon asks, agitating the water with his inability to properly kick. “Are you Spider-Man?”
“I wish I was that cool,” Jungkook smirks. “And yes. There are plenty of things you still don’t know about me, hyung.”
“Damn, even after this entire Summer?”
Instead of replying, Jungkook goes over the way Namjoon should be kicking his legs once more, and after a few more minutes struggling, Namjoon manages to do it semi-well.
“Yes,” Jungkook eventually says. “Even after this entire Summer.”
The day after that, Jungkook attempts to teach Namjoon how to move his arms, but even the crawl-type stroke feels too difficult.
“I should’ve learned how to swim when I was a kid,” Namjoon complains, emerging from the water while breathing heavily. “Now I just look pathetic.”
“You don’t look pathetic,” Jungkook assures him, shaking his head with that easy bunny smile on his lips. “A lot of people don’t know how to swim as adults.”
“Well, are these people usually from Chuncheon?”
Jungkook presses his lips together. “Well…”
“See! Pathetic!”
The next day, a Friday, Jungkook puts aside the arm-work to teach him breathing techniques. He truly looks like a professor while doing it, so serious and pretty, with his hair pulled back and forehead showing. Namjoon listens attentively to every word and does his best not to make a fool of himself like the previous afternoon.
By the end of the exercise, Jungkook’s smiling. “You’re progressing very well. Congrats. Should we continue it next week after the study session?”
“Of course!” Namjoon exclaims, staring at him as Jungkook pulls himself off the pool by the strength of his arms. He looks at his back, down to his waist and… has Jungkook always had such a small waist? Namjoon shakes his head as he moves toward the edge. “Plans for the weekend?”
“No,” Jungkook pops out as he turns to him, watching as Namjoon places his palms on the edge and pulls himself off as well. “You?”
“Same old, I guess.”
“Ah.” Jungkook offers him a towel. “Going to the club, then.”
Namjoon starts drying his arms. “It’s like you said; Summer is almost over.”
“And we’re almost out of time,” Jungkook finishes, smiling sadly before turning back around to grab his own towel. “Totally.”
Namjoon looks from the back of his head to his waist again, only diverting his eyes when the loud, shrilling noise of a phone ringing pulls him out of it.
“Who brings their phone to the pool?” Jungkook mutters, shaking his head as he dries himself. “You know one day these little devices will destroy our lives.”
“Yeah,” Namjoon agrees, feeling a little lightheaded. He tries to swallow but his throat is dry. “Totally.”
“You two are actual lunatics for studying in this heat while we’re literally in a school break,” Hoseok judges from the couch. He’s been slurping on energy drinks all afternoon, saying he’s fighting to stay awake just by watching them waste such a fine Tuesday that way. Directly in front of Namjoon on the center table, Jungkook reads one of his business books Namjoon understands nothing of. “Seriously, why? How can you even concentrate?”
“I have a natural predisposition of not being able to concentrate on anything,” Jungkook replies, not taking his eyes off the book. “But I am managing. If I fail this class my abeoji will have my head on a spike. Not the cool one from Buffy. An actual spike.”
Namjoon chuckles, eyes on the younger man. Jungkook’s sense of humor is so cute. Also his nose and his pout and his big deer eyes. He’s cute in his entirety. Namjoon wonders if Jungkook is aware of this because if he isn’t, he should be. Being cute can take you to many places.
An email pops up in his inbox and Namjoon immediately freezes. It’s from his professor, letting him know he has been pre-selected by Cornell and is among the ten finalists to get the scholarship. He reads the email over and over again, not knowing how to proceed. Namjoon didn’t even know he would be informed of a pre-selection, so he emails the professor back asking him how he’s sure. Professor Jung’s response arrives only five minutes later;
Candidates aren’t supposed to know, actually, but I know a couple people at Cornell and they gave me access to the file. In case you don’t get it, I wanted to let you know this to prove to you that you are good enough, Kim Namjoon-ssi. The best student I’ve ever had. Congratulations are already more than in order.
Namjoon smiles, reading the words again and again. His essay was good enough to be inside the top ten best.
“Can we take a break?” Hoseok suggests.
“You’re not even studying,” Jungkook chuckles.
Namjoon lifts up his eyes, glancing between his two friends and the sweat pouring out of them, and feels guilty about how he hasn’t shared with either about this possible other side of the world masters scholarship opportunity. He should have told them before, but he can tell them now. It’s not even guaranteed, anyway. Namjoon’s chance is just 10%. He probably won’t even get it.
“Let’s do something more productive,” Hoseok suggests before Namjoon can even open his mouth, and he would be lying if he said he isn’t at least a little relieved. To drop something so heavy on their laps on such a hot Tuesday afternoon seems cruel. He probably won’t even get it. “Alright, definitely not more productive, but more entertaining.”
“For example?” Jungkook questions, taking his eyes from the book and placing them on Hoseok.
“Sex,” Hoseok deadpans.
“I don’t know why I even bothered to ask,” Jungkook snickers, closing the book. “Of course you wanna talk about sex.”
“Yes, so how’s all this guy on guy action going for you two?”
“I don’t have much guy on guy action,” Jungkook replies as his cheeks tint on a pretty shade of pink, the smile still on his face. Namjoon keeps his eyes on him. “Nor girl. I don’t know. Maybe I’m too picky.”
“A trait that Namjoon seemed to share with you before, but he’s been going at it basically nonstop for months now,” Hoseok feels the absurd need to say. Namjoon sees the way Jungkook’s smile drops a little bit and frowns. “Anyone lined up for tomorrow, lover boy?”
It takes Namjoon more seconds than necessary to register the words, but when he does, he rolls his eyes, offering Hoseok his middle finger. “You make me sound like a fuck boy. I’m not one. I’m just enjoying my singleness, exactly like you told me to, fucker.”
“And I’m so proud!” Hoseok exclaims before turning to Jungkook. “What do you mean about being picky?”
“I don’t know,” Jungkook mutters, eyes back on the book despite it being closed. “Most people that hit on me aren’t very interesting in my eyes, I guess.”
“Oh, I see. That’s cool, though, you shouldn’t force yourself into anything you don’t want to, baby, not ever!” Hoseok advises in a concentrated frown. He looks down at the table and the floor. “Well, looks like we are out of energy drinks and coffee has gone out the window hours ago. I’m gonna go buy some more.”
“No need.”
“Oh, I need it.” Hoseok promptly stands up. “If you’re not gonna talk about something more entertaining, I really need to buy more energy drinks if I want to not fall asleep while waiting for you to give up on studying for classes that haven’t even started yet, by the way. But don’t worry, I’ll get them for all of us. On me.”
“What a kind, kind man…” Namjoon trails off, watching as Hoseok grabs his phone, car keys, and wallet. After he’s out the door, Namjoon looks at Jungkook, remembering how quiet he was that day on the train back in August when they were joking about having a threesome. “Did the questions make you uncomfortable? I can talk to him later.”
Jungkook shakes his head, cheeks red; whether because of the heat or the conversation, Namjoon isn’t sure, but after three months seeing each other four to five times a week, Namjoon thinks he has come to know Jungkook enough to believe is probably a little of both.
“I don’t mind talking about sex, hyung. Granted, I don’t have much experience with it, so whatever I have to say, it wouldn’t be interesting, anyway.”
“What about that guy at the club? You left with him.”
“What guy?” Jungkook frowns for only a moment. “Ah. You saw that. It was months ago, didn’t, uh, didn’t think you’d remember, I know I barely do. Yeah, we, uh, he took me to his place and we had sex. It was alright.”
Namjoon hums. “But not great.”
“No, not great.”
“Well, I’m sorry about that, and like Hoba said, there’s nothing wrong with being picky, or whatever.” Namjoon looks down at the book he had abandoned before getting the email, blood rushing a little faster. He swallows. “Great sex isn’t easy to find, trust me. Only a few of my hookups have actually been worth my time. You’ll find someone excellent in bed, though, I’m sure of it.”
“What about you?”
Namjoon frowns, turning a page on the book even though he hadn’t finished reading the previous one. “What about me?”
“Aren’t you excellent in bed?”
“Wouldn’t it be presumptuous of me to say I am?”
“Why don’t we have sex and you let me be the judge of that, then?”
Namjoon laughs, but it comes out a little screeched.
“You think I’m joking like you were back in the train, Namjoon-ah?”
The words slowly slip into Namjoon’s brain, taking a few seconds to be fully absorbed, but once it happens, he looks up at Jungkook with wide eyes. The silence is short, but it’s heavy, and the beating of Namjoon’s heart increases with every new second he spends simply staring at the younger man.
Jungkook scoffs, shoving the already closed book aside. “I think I should go home.”
“Wait, wait,” Namjoon quickly exclaims, pushing his own book and laptop aside, a frown deep between his eyes. “You mean it? You want to sleep with me?”
“Seriously?” Jungkook asks in a tone of voice Namjoon had never heard come out of his mouth before; it’s full of hurt and sorrow. “Are you really that fucking blind?”
“Jungkook-ah, can you– can you please–”
Can he please… what? Namjoon doesn’t know what to say, what to ask. His mind is swirling around fifty different things simultaneously, and he doesn’t know which of them to focus on. Namjoon takes a deep breath, and then another.
In his third, he asks, “Why now?”
“I don’t know,” Jungkook replies simply, eyes shining. “Why not now?”
Because I just got out of a four year relationship earlier this year. Because I’m still figuring myself out. Because I’m sleeping around to try and move on. Because you’re a sophomore and I’m graduating in five months. Because I’m moving away. Maybe. 10% chance. Because even if I’m not moving…
“You’re Jungkook,” Namjoon whispers, and although he knows that answer sucks and it’s hardly enough, it’s the only one he can offer now. “I mean, you’re attractive, yes, but you’re so young and–”
“Give me a fucking break, I’ve seen you hookup with people my age!”
“But they were not you.”
“And what the hell does that mean?” Jungkook practically shouts and it startles Namjoon because he has never heard that tone of voice come from the younger man either. “You just said I’m attractive.”
“You are.”
“Well, are you attracted to me?”
Wet, tanned skin, soft bunny smiles and pink lips flash before his eyes. Would lack of honesty make any of this better? Namjoon doesn’t think so. He’s never acknowledged it, not even once, all these months, but he always knew. Of course he did. Namjoon’s eyes lingered, his mind swirled around it. Sometimes, he just couldn’t stop staring. So beautiful Jungkook is. The way he laughs and how he blushes. It pulls you in. And it pulled him in, oh, it did. Of course it did.
“Yes, I am.”
“Then, what?”
Namjoon’s mouth is dry, his entire world is spinning. He can’t believe this is happening, he can’t believe he didn’t see it coming, and most of all, Namjoon can’t believe he’s handling it this fucking poorly.
Hands shaking, he tries to sound reasonable.
“It is what I said. You’re Jungkook, I’m not just gonna take you to bed and forget your name the next day, we’re friends. It wouldn’t– it would be awkward, Jungkookie, because we’re friends.”
Jungkook’s frown mirrors Namjoon’s. It doesn’t seem like he even thinks about the next few words that come out of his mouth before they reach Namjoon’s ears.
“And we can’t be more than that, can we?” Jungkook asks, but it doesn’t really feel like he’s asking. He takes a shakier breath than Namjoon’s. “You don’t want us to be more than that.”
If Namjoon could make the world stop just for a little while. Just for a minute. If he could freeze the two of them at this moment, or the two of them from five minutes ago, if he had the power to do that, Namjoon would use it. Because as he stares at Jungkook now, the eternal seconds between his words and the inevitable unwanted answer aren’t long enough. Namjoon stands up from where he had been kneeling on the floor and approaches the couch, taking a seat next to Jungkook.
And because he already knows, Jungkook sobs quietly, eyes anywhere but him. The pain burning on Namjoon’s chest is akin to the one he felt when he got home to see Jieun’s suitcases all packed up, and the blank stare on her face as she told him it was over. That means something, of course. It means that Jungkook means something to him. What that is, Namjoon has no idea, and, unfortunately, almost comedically literally, he doesn’t have time nor emotional strength to find out.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and the quiet sobs turn a little louder. Jungkook accidentally throws his book on the floor as he stands up, rushing across the room to gather all his belongings. “Jungkook, please, let’s talk like adults.”
“Why?” Jungkook replies as he shoves his own laptop inside his backpack. “You don’t consider me one, anyway, I’m just a kid to you, right?”
“That’s not true.”
“Then why?” Jungkook turns to him, eyes red. “If– if it’s because of Jieun, I can wait. I can wait until you’re ready.”
Namjoon shakes his head, all the words he always has on the tip of his tongue suddenly lost. After a few seconds of expectant wait, Jungkook shakes his head and continues to grab his things.
“It’s not about Jieun only, I’m just– I don’t know. I’m not ready to jump into something, and there’s Cornell, right, I still don’t know if I’m gonna get that, and I don’t even know if I want it, but Jesus fuck, Jungkook, just— please, don’t do this to me.”
“What the fuck am I doing to you?” Jungkook sighs, tears wetting his beautiful cheeks. “I’ve just confessed I’m in love with you, and you’re the one rejecting me, so who’s doing something to someone here?”
“In love?” Namjoon repeats as if in doing so the words will make any sort of sense. “You’re– in love with me?”
Jungkook makes a sound low in his throat, running a desperate hand over his brown hair.
“You’re just so– stupid, Kim Namjoon. As if I’d be humiliating myself this way simply because I want to sit on your dick. No, actually, I’m the stupid one, what the fuck was I thinking…” Jungkook stops suddenly, tears staining his face, nose red, eyes swollen. “What do you mean Cornell?”
Namjoon takes a breath. This is really not the way he wanted to say it. Fuck. His head hurts, his heart hurts, his gut hurts, all of his body is pulsing and he doesn’t know what to do except to say the truth.
“I was offered the opportunity of scholarship at Cornell University. My grades, my extracurricular activities, my work as a TA, it all made me a candidate, and they asked for an Essay in English, of course, to, uh, I guess decide if I am the best one, and earlier I received an email from professor Jung letting me know I’m one of the finalists.”
“So you’re moving away,” Jungkook mutters, much more collected than a minute before. “You’re moving away to America and you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t tell anyone, and I’m not sure yet, like I said, I’m just one of the finalists.”
Jungkook clears away his tears, nodding his head. “Well, congratulations, Namjoon-ah. You really are very smart when it comes to academics.”
“Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon whispers. “Please, don’t go. I can’t– I can’t lose y– I can’t lose this friendship.”
“I’m feeling really embarrassed right now, Namjoon-ah,” he replies, looking anywhere but at him. “We can, uh, we can talk later. I need time.”
And sure, Namjoon could stop him from leaving, could beg Jungkook to sit back down so they can properly talk about this, but he honestly doesn’t know what he would say. Despite the burning on his chest, Namjoon knows he couldn’t say yes to having something with Jungkook. Not now. And not only because of Jieun or Cornell. It’s him. He’s not ready to be in a relationship again. It would not only be stupid, but it would end tragically, and Namjoon doesn’t ever want to get home to another packed suitcase again. Especially not one made by someone so sweet and kind as Jungkook.
Sun-kissed, darling, beautiful boy.
“I’m really sorry, Jungkook, it’s just… It wouldn’t work out,” he whispers one more time before the younger man slams the door behind him. “I’m really, really sorry. I don’t… I don’t know anything.”
He’s only twenty-three, for fucks sake. Jungkook’s twenty. They’re kids, they’re just stupid fucking kids.
Namjoon stares at the business book Jungkook left on the floor, eyes stinging. He shakes his head, unable to wrap it around any of what just happened. Namjoon reaches out for the book and holds it close to his chest. As the house falls more deeply into silence, despite the heat all around him, all Namjoon feels is cold.
Mr. Namjoon Kim,
The University of Cornell is honored to announce your acceptance in our Masters in the Field of Communication Program starting January 2009. Your excellence in the four years bachelor degree at SNU (Seoul National University) and the breathtaking essay you sent as your application blew us here at Cornell Department of Communication away and we cannot wait to see you this spring.
We have attached all the forms you need to fill out and all the following steps that need to be taken.
Best Regards, Cornell University
If his eomeoni were to ask if Namjoon’s sure about leaving Seoul, he would offer her a semi-truth, the very same one he offers himself; yes, eomeoni, he would say. I am.