better put your fingers back to the keys (part 1/2)
better put your fingers back to the keys
rap monster/jin
11460 words; pg-13
warning: Slight sexual interactions under the influence of alcohol (but no sex!)
written here originally for bangtanexchange! and an ao3 mirror here!
Of course it’s Jimin’s idea.
The problem with Jimin is that there is no problem, which means no one can ever say no to Jimin.
Which means that when graduation comes around, when Jimin sits down at the lunch table with a loud, Let’s go on a road trip!, everyone who wants to say no doesn’t.
Yoongi tries.
“I get carsick easily,” he says. “It’s why I walk to school instead of having my brother drive me.”
“Don’t worry!” Jimin says, “We’ll make lots of pit stops. Hoseok said he’d drive.”
Namjoon’s still unconvinced. No one is, really. Except for Hoseok. Fuck Hoseok. “He’s not seriously driving us in his mom’s SUV, right? Because I’m not going to step foot in there.”
“Not since prom,” Taehyung says, very helpfully.
“Thank you, Taehyung,” Seokjin tells him, very unthankfully. Seokjin doesn’t look like he really wants to go either, from the way he’s staring at the floor.
Jimin looks like he has this planned out, and that in itself is already worrying. Namjoon doesn’t want to be a part of this. “We’ll use Seokjin hyung’s car! Right, hyung?”
“What?”
“Exactly.”
It’s settled.
They’re going on a road trip to Busan after graduation.
The only ones who are actually graduating are Yoongi and Seokjin, but that’s the heart of the problem. They hadn’t even become friends until sophomore year of school, when Namjoon introduced them to each other one rainy day when Seokjin was the only one carrying an umbrella.
Sometimes it doesn’t matter how different someone’s personality can be, as long as they can brave the worst together. Seokjin’s blown in umbrella and three boy’s drenched uniforms isn’t the worst, but it was a start.
“What are you doing?” Namjoon asks a week later, in the back of the library. Taehyung scrambles to cover his paper until he realizes it’s just Namjoon.
“Song list,” he says as Namjoon sits next to him. “Jungkook told me to make it, ‘cause he said we’d probably fight with the radio the whole time.”
“We would,” Namjoon agrees, and looks at the list. Taehyung looks at him expectantly, and he takes a deep breath.“Taehyung,” he says seriously, “what made you think you think this list was a good idea?”
“What? There’s Block B for Yoongi hyung, Fall Out Boy for Hoseok hyung, Hyuna for Seokjin hyung--”
“Taehyung,” he sighs, “You can’t just go from Nillili Mambo to Bubble Pop.”
“It’s not my fault Seokjin has weird taste.”
Namjoon laughs. Seokjin has the weirdest taste out of anyone he knows. Only he could unironically have Sistar and Kendrick Lamar on the same playlist and try to defend it. “It’s gonna be weird without them,” he sighs.
Taehyung nods solemnly next to him. “Two weeks left.”
Two weeks. Fourteen days. Ten school days. Namjoon hates numbers. “Are you ready?”
“Are you?”
Namjoon watches Taehyung pen down another song name onto the list. I’m Yours - Jason Mraz. “No,” he confesses, just as the bell rings.
Graduation flies by in a blur. Seokjin is crying, that fucking idiot, and Yoongi is grinning so wide his eyes disappear into those weird moon things it always does. Yoongi’s mom is a short lady with short bobbed hair and way too much energy for her size. Seokjin’s mom is, well, Seokjin, but female, and probably two decades older.
They usher everyone into a picture. Namjoon gets shoved next to a sobbing Seokjin, and Jungkook manages to shimmy his way onto his other side, and Jimin wraps an arm around Yoongi, who’s on Seokjin’s other side, and Hoseok, stupid Hoseok, slides onto the ground yelling Draw me like one of your french girls! and makes the picture that much more embarrassing. Namjoon learns to love that photo, years later.
Hoseok drives him home because Namjoon isn’t old enough to drive yet, and is glad Hoseok doesn’t try to start a conversation. The adrenaline from hugging Yoongi and Seokjin and screaming Congratulations! You’ve made it! in their faces is gone, and all that’s left is the empty banging in his head.
Namjoon gets home and at least remembers to say goodbye to Hoseok and thank him for the ride, but as he walks up to his room his chest feels heavy, like he could just face plant onto the staircase and roll down the rest of the steps and that would be completely okay with him. He doesn’t, because his sister’s room is next to the staircase and she’s come out and question him and that’s just annoying. What a wreck, Namjoon. What a wreck.
He half expects to enter his room and find it completely different. Like maybe there’d be a giant banner on his window that reads Yoongi and Seokjin graduated today!, and then confetti would fly out of nowhere and it’d look very fun and Namjoon would be mad because he’s not having any fun at all.
He sits at his desk and spins around in his chair, like that’ll accomplish anything. There’s a picture on his desk he finally spots after the twelfth spin. His head spins as he picks it up, not quite sure is he’s really holding it, until the vertigo dissipates and Namjoon’s left with a picture of him and the rest of the boys. Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung still have their middle school uniforms, ugly brown slacks and an off white dress shirt that only Jungkook has tucked in, and the other four, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, and him with their even uglier khaki pants and navy blue blazers. None of them have their shirts tucked in. Yoongi has the blazer draping off his shoulders, rather than wearing it like a normal person. When the hell was this taken?
The frame comes off easily, except he almost drops the glass cover onto the floor, if not for his knees that catch it before it slides through his legs and shatters. He spends one more minute staring at the picture, now in his hand, and examines everyone individually. For once Hoseok looks like a normal fucking person, with his hands in his pocket and giant grin on his face. His hair is wet. Actually, now that he’s looking, they’re all wet. Seokjin’s dark brown hair is sticking to his face in clumps, and Jimin’s shirt is sticking to his skin. Namjoon himself is completely soaked -- there’s even a few drops of water caught in the picture, forever frozen in midair.
He turns the picture over. September 1, 2010. Someone gave Jungkook water guns for his birthday.
Namjoon laughs. It’s the short, barking kind of laugh. Like he’s relieved. He doesn’t know why.
Now, his anger seems kind of stupid. It’s not like Yoongi and Seokjin are going to disappear forever. Yoongi lives next door to him, for a start, and Seokjin is across the street. They all live next to each other. He’ll see them for the rest of summer. He’ll see them during their breaks. He’ll see them when they come home on the weekends. He’ll see them when Hoseok decides it’s time to raid their dorms and see whose room is messier.
But still. Right now Kim Namjoon is sixteen years old and two of his best friends are graduating and leaving him behind and it feels like nothing will ever be the same again.
“Is it true you’re going on a road trip?” Namjoon’s little sister, Kyungmin, asks the next day at breakfast.
“Apparently,” Namjoon mumbles around his breakfast.
“Can I come?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“But I--”
Namjoon’s father comes to the rescue and cuts in with how she doesn’t want to hang out with boys, they’re dirty, smelly, he would know, he’s a boy, after all. She whines and starts mumbling things, Namjoon thinks he hears but Hoseok oppa! and downs the rest of his water.
It’s no secret that Jiyoon has the world’s biggest crush on Hoseok. Hoseok’s that type of nice, funny guy that charms everyone’s moms and younger siblings. He’s at least nice enough to indulge her a bit, and also gets the satisfaction of annoying Namjoon when he pinches her cheeks.
“When is this road trip happening?” Namjoon’s father asks. He shrugs. He doesn’t know, after all. Jimin mentioned it once, and then somehow everyone knew. He’s pretty sure his mother knows more about it than he does.
His phone rings, and Namjoon’s father sends him a glare, because phones are not to be used at the dinner table, except Namjoon’s finished his food anyway, so he picks it up, tucks it between his ear and shoulder, and brings his empty plate to the kitchen sink.
“Namjoon?” It’s Seokjin.
“Hyung, what’s up?”
There’s some bickering on the other line, then he hears the sound of a door slamming, and then Jin’s voice is in his ears again: “You busy tomorrow?”
“No, why?”
“I’m visiting my college tomorrow to drop some papers off. I remember you said you might apply, so wanna come along and see what the campus is like? I’ll show you my dorm-to-be!”
Namjoon wants to go. “Gotta ask my mom.”
Seokjin laughs. “Where do you think your mom is? She brought it up.”
“That traitor.”
“Keeps your friends close but your enemies closer,” Seokjin says sagely, except that doesn’t make sense, and Namjoon holds back a witty retort in favor for an ugly snort.
“You’re stupid,” he says, and Seokjin snaps back something about stupid honor roll kid that Namjoon ignores. “What time tomorrow then?”
“Probably early. Be ready by nine, I wanna say? I’ll text you.”
“Gotcha.”
“See you then!”
Namjoon hangs up the phone and feels a bit sad.
Namjoon’s not sure if he wants to go to college. He’d rather make music and perform music and be surrounded by people who like music just as much as he does. The only person who knows this is Hoseok, who pats him on the back and says something about getting a degree in music composition. Who knows, maybe he will. Seokjin’s university is pretty good for that.
Namjoon’s also not sure if he likes Seokjin or not. This has nothing to do with his university, but maybe the fact that Seokjin’s sitting in driver’s seat, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to Ailee’s new song, and that makes Namjoon feel all fuzzy inside, but also extremely uncomfortable at the same time. Like the fuzzy feeling is also ticklish, and Namjoon’s sure he read somewhere that being ticklish is actually a panic response to unwanted stimuli.
“You okay?” Seokjin asks when they’ve stopped a red light. He turns to him, and Namjoon thinks he might actually look concerned, if he could see past his huge fucking sunglasses.
“Nerves,” he replies quickly. “College and stuff. Y’know. Why aren’t you nervous?”
Seokjin smiles. “I have plenty of time to be nervous. I’m stalling.”
“You can’t stall feelings,” Namjoon insists when the light turns green again. “You’re nervous when you are.”
“Oh, Namjoonie,” Seokjin says, and Seokjin only ever calls him Namjoonie when he’s being patronizing, “you know your feelings don’t control you, right? You make feelings - you can interpret and bend them however you want.”
Namjoon thinks that over for the rest of the ride.
“This is where I should be staying, if the whole housing thing works out okay,” Seokjin says, gesturing to the building behind him. It’s a red brick building, three stories high, with a white roof.
“It’s a lot uglier than I pictured,” Namjoon admits.
“Most colleges are,” Seokjin replies. “Wanna see if we can get inside? There’s summer classes, so there should be some kids here.”
Namjoon doesn’t really care, but he nods anyway. The door itself needs a student ID card to unlock, so they wait for a student to walk out of the building.
“Have you guys lost your IDs?” someone behind them asks.
“Yeah,” Seokjin says, with an over exaggerated sigh. “Second time.”
The other student grimaces. “That must be hell to pay. You’re like the third kid I’ve had to key in today.”
“Sorry.”
“Nah,” the kid says, and opens the door. “Not a problem. What’s your name?”
“Kim Seokjin, freshman,” he says. “You?”
“Kim Himchan, to-be-junior. Anyway, here you go. I live on the third floor if you need anything. See you around.”
“He seemed nice,” Namjoon mumbles after Himchan walks up the stairs.
Seokjin nods. “C’mon, let’s go look around.”
Most of the dorms are empty, and there isn’t much to look at anyway, so they end up leaving a grand half hour later.
“Well,” Namjoon says, “we did a lot.”
“Hey, we did hand in the papers I was supposed to, which is technically the main reason we went there.”
Namjoon shrugs. The highway isn’t as crowded as before, even though it’s further in the day. Namjoon wonders what it’s like to drive. Everyone looks cooler when they’re driving. Even Seokjin, with his oversized glasses and hipster band tshirt. “You’re going pretty far away,” he finally says.
“Hm?” Seokjin asks. The car shifts into the next lane, and they into the exit. “It’s only an hour away.”
“An hour away by car,” Namjoon points out, hoping he doesn’t sound as rotten as he sounds right now. “Yoongi’s going to college in Seoul.”
“Do you want me to apologize?” Seokjin says, and Namjoon should’ve known he’d see right through Namjoon’s masquerade. “Find a college closer and transfer before I even enter?”
Namjoon laughs, but maybe his voice cracks. Maybe. “Can you do that in two months?”
“I’m sorry I can’t take you with me,” Seokjin says softly, “but I can’t do anything about that.”
Namjoon’s aware of that. Namjoon’s completely aware of that, and that’s why he’s angry, feels ashamed for being angry. Angry and jealous and ashamed and betrayed that his life feels like it’s going to fall apart when it’s obviously not. “Sorry,” he tells the window. “I’m just not ready for this group to break up.” The window understands. Outside, a car cuts them off, and Seokjin hisses a profanity.
“Neither am I,” Seokjin says, almost wistfully, “But this doesn’t mean we’re breaking up. We’re just... testing limits, I guess.”
Namjoon counts the lamp posts as the car turns into their neighborhood. “I guess so.”
“Three days,” Jimin says the next day, outside Namjoon’s window.
“Three days what?” Namjoon calls out. Why doesn’t he just knock on the door?
“Road trip!” Jimin shouts. “We’re going to go to Busan and stay at Jungkook’s uncle’s house.”
“It takes like four hours to get to Busan, this doesn’t count as a road trip.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. We’re gonna make a few pit stops. Text you details later, alright?” He runs off before Namjoon can answer, probably to Yoongi’s house to relay the same message.
“Name all the people who told you this was a good idea, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi says, “I’m going to hit them all.”
“My mom,” Jimin replies, and throws a water bottle to Taehyung, who’s lying on the hood of Hoseok’s car.
“I’m excited,” Taehyung says, jumping into the back seat, “Except it’d be awesome if we were in one of those convertible cars, instead of an SUV. It’d be like those American movies.”
Hoseok grins from where he’s coming out of the front door of his house, acoustic guitar in hand, “If no one sings Jason Mraz I’m going to be disappointed in you all.”
“We need to make a pit stop and start a campfire,” Taehyung adds, lying on his back, legs sticking awkwardly out of the door, “make smores and sing campfire songs.”
Seokjin laughs and tosses his bag into the trunk. “I think that’s hiking, Taehyungie. Need any help?”
Namjoon shakes his head, dumping in his backpack as well. “When are we heading out?” he asks to no one in particular.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Hoseok sing songs, spinning the keys in his hand. “You guys are gonna be so glad we took my car instead of Seokjin hyung’s.”
“Actually, no one wants to sit your soccer mom SUV. But I still call shotgun,” Yoongi says, climbing into the car. “Hurry up and let’s go.”
Jungkook and Jimin are shoved into the backseat, grumbling about the indecencies of life, while Taehyung, Namjoon, and Seokjin sit in the middle. The car isn’t that small, but Namjoon still ends up pressed against Seokjin’s side, and that makes his face burn bright red, and god dammit, he’d always been pretty good at hiding his emotions, but his face flushes at the smallest things. “Two hours until Carribean Bay,” Taehyung whines, slumping down, giving Namjoon even less space. “Let’s teleport.”
The first half hour is spent with Yoongi and Seokjin fighting over the radio. It changes every few seconds from the English rap music station Namjoon didn’t know existed to the mainstream music radio, until Jungkook and Jimin bet on who’s going to snap first and kill the other.
“Didn’t you have that CD?” Namjoon whispers to Taehyung, who’s not even on the seat anymore. Seokjin’s leaning over Namjoon, shirt riding up and exposing his hipbones, not that Namjoon’s looking, to fight Yoongi over controls on the radio, giving Namjoon even less space.
He shrugs. “I left it in my laptop.”
“Useless,” he groans. “Your shirt’s riding up, hyung,” he tells Seokjin.
“You looking?” Seokjin asks, grinning. While he’s distracted, Yoongi changes the radio station and heaves a sigh.
“I’m hungry,” Jimin complains. Jungkook agrees.
“We just left,” Hoseok says. “And you guys both ate, don’t even lie to me.”
While everyone else is distracted, Namjoon tugs Seokjin back down into his seat and hands him an earbud and his ipod. He sticks the other earbud in his own ear. “It’s my ipod, but I’ll let you choose the song.”
Seokjin stares at the earbud for a second, like he’s confused, or maybe like something is going to pop out of the earbud and devour him, but then puts it in his ear anyway and smiles at Namjoon.
And that’s not fair. That’s really not fair -- the way something stupid and trivial like a smile can get Namjoon’s heart pumping more blood than it should, embarrassment and contentment flooding his veins in one go.
"You don't mind, even if I choose all the weird anime songs I know you have on here?"
"No I don't--"
Namjoon groans at the electric pop that floods his ear. "Can we not listen to Madoka songs?"
"It's on your ipod," Seokjin says, grinning. "I didn't know you liked magical girls so much."
"It's my sister's," he replies, and glances back at Seokjin, who sees right through his lie. He doesn’t like that Seokjin does that.
"So, Namjoonie," Seokjin hums, throwing an arm around Namjoon's shoulder, "How many times have you masturbated to anime girls in short skirts?"
Namjoon wants to slam his head into the window. Hoseok's laughter rings from the front seat. "Who's masturbating to anime?"
"You mean aside from the obvious?" Namjoon glowers.
"I am shameless, and my hentai is a temple," he says sagely, and Yoongi snorts next to him.
"You should see his laptop," Jungkook says from behind them.
"You let Jungkookie see your laptop?" Seokjin yells as Hoseok makes a sharp left turn, throwing them all to the right side of the car.
"Who the fuck let you drive?" Namjoon snaps.
Hoseok curses, and then honks at a car that cuts them off. "Where's your license, huh?"
"You're gonna kill us--"
"Hyung, I need to-"
"Jungkook is sixteen!"
"Hyung, Jungkook said he needs to--"
"Will the peanut gallery behind me shut the fuck up," Yoongi shouts, and everyone collectively quiets down. The radio is turned up until Namjoon can feel the bass thumping underneath his feet, and looks towards Seokjin, who's looking past him. He follows his gaze to see Taehyung next to him, body completely slumped down on the seat, head tilting off to his left, asleep.
"How," Seokjin whispers, and Namjoon shrugs.
"Superpowers," he says, and grabs his ipod back when Seokjin's distracted, and plays all his Kanye West songs.
"I'm sleeping," Seokjin says, and Namjoon expects him to give him back his earbud, but instead, he shifts so that he's leaning towards Namjoon and puts his head on his shoulder.
"Hoseok, how much longer do we have to go?" Namjoon asks.
"About an hour," Yoongi answers.
"Cool," he says, and slides down in his seat a little. "I'm joining you then," he tells Seokjin, and leans his head on top of Seokjin's.
He feels Seokjin tense a little beneath him, but then he feels the steady rise and fall of Seokjin's chest, and they both relax.
"Hyung!"
Someone is jabbing Namjoon in the side of the head, and that's really fucking annoying. "What the hell do you want?" he asks, grabbing the offender's hand. It's Jimin.
"We're here."
"What?"
"We're here," Jimin repeats. "Caribbean Bay."
Namjoon groans, feeling the knots in his back ache has he stretches his arms out in front of him. He's the only one left in the car. Taehyung and Seokjin are waiting on the side, Yoongi and Jungkook are already wearing their swim trunks, and Hoseok is waiting to lock the car. "Sorry," he mumbles, stumbling out of the van.
"S'cool," Hoseok says, as the car beeps when the door is closed. "We actually got a close parking space, so score. Seokjin hyung got your swim shorts, by the way."
"Seokjin hyung?" Namjoon looks up to see Seokjin walking a few paces in front of him, deep in conversation with Taehyung and Jimin. He makes out the words burgers and ice cream before Hoseok nudges him in the side.
"How is that going?"
"What?"
"Seokjin hyung."
"What about Seokjin hyung?"
Hoseok frowns at him, and Namjoon feels a little guilty before Hoseok rarely frowns. Doesn't like anything that requires him to not be aloof and making people laugh. "Don't play dumb. We're chingu; I know everything about you. And I know despite the fact Taehyung wants to go to Seokjin hyung's university too, he only invited you to go with him."
"Because I'm going to be a senior? Taehyung's only a sophomore -- junior now, I guess."
"That's exactly when everyone looks at colleges, dude. We're supposed to start applying and studying for entrance exams now."
Yoongi, who's been walking a few feet away from them, suddenly comes close. "Are we shit talking Seokjin?"
"No," Hoseok says, "the opposite, actually. We're talking about Namjoon's little crush on him."
"It's not a crush--"
"He's right," Yoongi says, "it's not. He's been infatuated for the past three years."
"Hyung."
Yoongi pets him on the head as they reach the entrance of the theme park and pull out their tickets. The younger two and Seokjin are already inside, waiting by the fountain for them patiently. "You're not obvious, but I look more than you think."
"Also we basically breathe for the days you fuck up," Hoseok adds helpfully.
Namjoon sighs. The last thing he wants to talk about on his last vacation with his closest friends in the boy next door he sorta kinda wants to get with. "Is there a point?"
"It's the last vacation with the whole group," Hoseok says, hitting Yoongi in the stomach when he snaps No it's not in the background. "Use it well. Right, hyung?"
"Whatever," Yoongi mutters. "Go get changed. Everyone else is in their swim suits."
Namjoon wants to make a remark, but Hoseok pulls him in the direction of the bathroom. "Did you really have to grab a white tshirt for me?" he asks incredulously.
Hoseok waggles his eyebrows. "Like it?"
"This is on purpose," he accuses, and Hoseok doesn't deny it. “You said Seokjin hyung got my clothes.”
"Seokjin hyung's got a bag with all of our clothes in it that we're gonna dump in a locker," Hoseok sing songs as he exits. "Hurry up. And I lied."
For what it's worth, Caribbean Bay is awesome. They split up into groups, Taehyung and Jimin, Jungkook and Hoseok, and then Seokjin, Yoongi, and himself.
"How do we feel about the really tall water slides?" Namjoon asks, looking up at one that's blue and swirly. It doesn't actually look that tall, but just in case.
"Amazing," Yoongi says. "Let's go."
Seokjin doesn't argue.
From up here, actually, it does look quite tall. Looking down was a very bad idea. Namjoon isn't afraid of heights or anything, but Jesus Christ there's no ceiling to the slide.
"Stop looking down," Seokjin says, and Namjoon's head snaps back up to look at the two.
"What?"
"You're looking down," Seokjin explains, like Namjoon didn't know that. "Even if you're not scared of heights, looking down like that would freak anyone out."
"I'm not afraid of heights."
"Are you guys going?" Yoongi cuts them off. "It's your turn."
"You're not coming?" Seokjin asks, looking slightly wounded.
Yoongi snorts. "Two people to a raft. And there's a really cute girl behind us, so shut up and go."
Namjoon laughs, ducking forward to get into the raft. "C'mon hyung," he says as Seokjin clambers in behind him.
"Afraid of heights now?" Seokjin asks, wrapping his arms around Namjoon's waist. His skin burns through his tshirt, and really, all Namjoon wants to do is lean back against Seokjin and breathe in his scent.
"How am I supposed to be with my protective hyung to save me?"
"Yah," Seokjin snaps, "is that sarcasm?"
Namjoon does lean back, head resting on Seokjin's chest. "Maybe."
And on second thought, that's probably a bad position to be in on a really tall water slide. He vaguely hears Yoongi mutter that's gross from behind them before they're pushed forward and holy fuck it's fast. Seokjin is screaming in his ear, and Namjoon laughs as the water tumbles around them before they finally are pushed off the side and into the pool of water under them. Namjoon rolls off the raft first, spluttering, before he grabs the side of it and flips it over so Seokjin yells and joins him in the water.
"That was awesome," Namjoon yells, wading in place. "Right, hyung?"
One of the employees call them to get out of the pool so the next couple can go as Seokjin takes a mouthful of water and sprays it into Namjoon's face.
"That was gross," Namjoon groans as they climb out of the pool. "And I feel like my shorts are going to fall off."
Seokjin takes a bit longer to get out, and when he does, his gaze lingers longer on Namjoon than he thinks it should, eyes slightly hooded, and he tries not to think about what that means.
They're both silent, Seokjin silently watching him, and Namjoon wonders if he should say something, break the atmosphere, but then someone shreiks behind them and they both turn to see Yoongi being thrown off the raft, along with a petite girl with short hair. "That was the most unmanly scream I've heard."
Seokjin laughs. "Yoongi is a lot less scary than everyone thinks he is."
They wait for Yoongi to climb out the pool, watches as he waves goodbye to the girl and walks over to them, shedding his shirt as he goes. "I hate clothes," he announces. Then he looks at Namjoon. "Why the hell are you even wearing that? It's white."
Namjoon thinks about it, because it is really annoying, the white cloth sticking to his skin uncomfortable, but then thinks of Seokjin's gaze like daggers, and says, "Nah, I'll be cold. I'm already cold."
Yoongi shrugs. "Your call. By the way I'm ditching, so have fun."
Apparently Yoongi has a date with the girl he was on the raft with. Seokjin laughs and tells him not to keep his girlfriend waiting, and Namjoon feels a little exposed, suddenly alone with Seokjin and that gaze and his really sticky shirt. Being alone with Seokjin has never felt awkward, but now that he can see the outline of his hipbones through his equally wet and probably sticky shirt, all he wants to do is grab him by the waist and pull him close, breathe in the chlorine of the pool water and taste the droplets trickling down his face.
"So," Namjoon says to the open air in front of him. "Where should we go next?"
Seokjin shrugs from beside him. "I saw a ride on the way here, the one that's on the river. Wanna go there?"
"Sure," Namjoon says, and follows Seokjin quietly.
He's able to tolerate the next few rides with Seokjin. The river is slow and boring and mainly for scenery, but Namjoon doesn't really think the scenery behind him is anything to look at, unless that's Seokjin actually looking at him. He pretends to face the other side and marvel at the rocks and waves crashing around them. "Do you think I'd cut myself if I put my hand in the water?" he says, turning to face Seokjin, and ducks his head backwards out of reflex. Seokjin is way too close to him, eyes cutting deep into his, and Namjoon's heart thumps wildly in his chest.
"Yeah, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Seokjin says, but he's still looking at Namjoon with that expression, and then for a split second, so fast Namjoon could swear he imagined it, Seokjin's eyes flit down to his lips, and then back up to his eyes, and the thumping in his chest gets louder, harder, pumping black ooze through his body.
"Right," he says slowly, "bad idea."
The ride ends then, and Namjoon scrambles to get the seat belt and life jacket off as fast as he possibly can.
"I'm hungry," Namjoon tells Seokjin after the fifth ride, praying for anything to get rid of this uneasy feeling in his gut. He hopes the other guys can possibly save him. "Let's meet up with the others to go eat."
They do and they don't. Hoseok grins wildly and seats them next to each other, Seokjin's damp shorts riding up on his legs, and Namjoon's brain melts at the touch of Seokjin's thigh against his. But at least with the comfort of five other guys, even Yoongi, who says the girl he was with had to leave, things are much more comfortable. He's not constantly giving or receiving attention, and that's nice, to just let his mind wander by itself.
"I'm pretty tired, actually," Jimin says. "We've been walking around all day."
Taehyung agrees. "Do you guys still want to still stay? Because it's already sunset."
"Sleep," Namjoon says, much louder than he intends to, "is a great idea. I'm exhausted."
Yoongi and Hoseok exchange glances. "We could rent a motel room," he says. "Yongin is nearby, we could just go there."
"Sounds like a plan to me," Jimin says brightly, and they all quickly finish the rest of their food and change.
"I call shotgun," Namjoon calls out, and Yoongi shrugs, mainly because this time he's driving, and Hoseok wants to terrorize everyone in the backseat.
On the way to the car, Yoongi tugs on his sleeve, eyes carefully guarded. "Did anything happen?" he asks. "And don't try to play stupid, you know I can see through your bullshit."
"I... don't know," Namjoon says quietly. "Honestly. I don't know."
He doesn't like the look Yoongi gives him, but at least he doesn't say anything back.
They find a relatively cheap hotel in the middle of Yongin, just a mere two streets down from the heart of the nightlife there.
Taehyung and Jungkook pass out first, curled up together on one of the two beds. Hoseok wiggles in and throws the comforter over all of them. Jimin's got a bundle of blankets and pillows on the floor, and Yoongi's playing games on his phone on the couch, where Namjoon assumes he'll probably be sleeping.
"Hey," Seokjin hisses from the bathroom door, an hour later, and Namjoon pauses brushing his teeth to see what the commotion is.
"What?" Namjoon asks.
Seokjin slides in easily next to Namjoon, jumps onto the counter and gets comfortable. "Have you ever been clubbing before?" he whispers.
"Clubbing?" Namjoon asks, and thinks he knows where this is going. "No, of course not. Why?"
"Wanna?" he asks, and Namjoon gives him a look. Everyone else is sleeping, except for Yoongi who probably wouldn’t give a fuck if they ran through the streets naked or not.
Namjoon's not old enough to drink yet, but Seokjin is, and he wonders if Seokjin's ever done it before, or if this is going to be his first time too. "Yeah," he says, "let’s do it."
For someone who can actually get into the club regardless, Seokjin is panicking too much for Namjoon.
“Oh god,” Seokjin says, “They're checking IDs.”
“Shut up,” Namjoon hisses, adjusting his jacket. It’s not even his, technically, it’s Hoseok’s, but what Hoseok doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
The wind is bitingly cold, whipping Seokjin’s gelled hair in a million different directions. He wonders what the state of his own hair looks like right now. So much for trying to look like a Grown Ass Man -- he probably looks like a puppy off it’s leash.
Seokjin though. Granted, Seokjin is old enough to get into the club anyway, but despite his worries for Namjoon, he looks too comfortable. Well enough that Namjoon wants to question if he’s done this before: pushed back his hair, walked through shady hallways and grinded against anonymous girls. Something hot flashes through his veins, bitter and slimy, and for a second Namjoon thinks he might just drown in it. Envy drips in clumps off his body, droplets splashing everywhere like drops of blood when Namjoon grabs Seokjin by the arm quietly and pulls him along. He doesn't actually know what he's doing, but maybe this suddenly anger makes him look older, more confident, because nearly two seconds later they're past the bouncer and walking down dark steps, bass shaking all around them.
"We did it," Seokjin breathes in his ear. "We're in. You're in."
Namjoon laughs, but he can't even hear it in his own ears. He wonders why he can hear Seokjin so clearly. "I bet they would've carded you first before ever thinking about me."
Seokjin rolls his eyes, but ruffles his hair nonethelss as they reach the heart of the club. "Drinks?" he asks, and Namjoon looks over at the bar, a little nervous, a little curious.
"Yeah."
Namjoon doesn't know much about drinking; the most he's ever done is brought him his drunk father home from bars and calmed down his angry mom, and sometimes there are sips of wine at Christmas dinners, but this is an entire new ballgame.
Seokjin's leaning on his shoulder, breathe fanning against his neck as he leans back to down another shot. The liquid burns his throat as he it goes down, but he feels really good right now, regardless. "Are you gonna talk another one?" he slurs, and Seokjin shakes his head.
"I think... I think I've reached my limit. And I should probably try to be responsible."
Namjoon laughs. That's ridiculous, Seokjin was the one who brought a minor into the club.
"Hey!" Seokjin snaps, "Fine, do you want me to take another shot?"
"Well," Namjoon says, stumbling forward. "We do have one more left."
Seokjin stares at the little shot glass like the liquid is going to jump out of it and possibly attack him. "Okay," he says. "For my Namjoonie."
"For your Namjoon," he agrees, and why does that sound weird? Your Namjoon... Your Namjoon... Your-- oh, Seokjin tips the glass back and drinks it in one go.
"Now let's dance," Seokjin says, grin wicked.
This is how people dance in a club, right? That's what Namjoon's seen in movies, and looking around him, seems pretty accurate. He's never been the best dancer, but since he figures he's drunk right now, he's either doing an awesome job or an awful job.
Seokjin, on the other hand, feels dirty and sinful against him. Do normal friends dance like this together? He doesn't think normal friends dance like this -- Namjoon's fingers splayed across Seokjin's hipbone, shirt riding up, ass pressed onto Namjoon's crotch. Seokjin's head is lolling on his shoulder, tilted towards his neck, and oh, his lips are parted, little puffs of breath tingling against his skin. Namjoon closes his eyes, pushes Seokjin a little further away him, and breathes hard through his nose because fuck he's getting hard, and oh, oh god, Seokjin steps back right into his space, hands sliding over his own and presses them together.
Fuck it, Namjoon thinks, swaying his hips, fuck it. He's drunk and doesn't care and Seokjin feels like fire and intoxication against him.
"Hey," Seokjin says into his ear, "do you wanna leave?"
Alright then. "I... sure," Namjoon says. He doesn't actually know how long they've been here for, and if it's been a long time, then they really should be heading back now.
It's freezing outside the club, goosebumps rising on Namjoon's arms, and wasn't he wearing a jacket before? -- but oh, okay, that's Seokjin's tongue flicking against his and he's being pushed against the dirty club wall, cement digging into his back painfully, but Seokjin's hand is gripping his jaw so hard it might bruise as he filthily kisses the breathe out of his lungs.
There's something buzzing in Namjoon's mind, that maybe this is a bad idea? Possibly? But that's stupid, he thinks as his hands find their ways into Seokjin's back pockets, fingers gripping at his ass -- how could this possibly be a bad idea? Seokjin lips feel like adrenaline, hot and white, flames flickering through the pads of fingers on Namjoon's jaw, and they slide to the back of his head to scratch at his nape.
That feels really good, sends a tiny flicker of electricity, sharp and tingling, unlike the smooth burn of lava, and he moans loudly into Seokjin's mouth. Everything feels hazy, like he might just collapse under the tidal wave of lust because he wants, he wants, he wants.
"We gotta go," he grunts, as much as he doesn't want that, but he really has no idea what time it is and they have to head back soon.
Seokjin, surprisingly, peels away from him, stumbling until his hand finds Namjoon's. The first few steps are okay, but then Namjoon trips over his own feet, and realizes just how fucked they are for the rest of the walk.
It's a good thing their hotel is so close to the club, and also a bad thing because they're both still very much drunk and Namjoon is hard and when Seokjin pushes him up against their car, he wonders why he ever even thought of relenting.
"Fuck," Seokjin gasps, hips knocking against his own, "you're so hot."
Namjoon moans, leaning forward to capture Seokjin's lips, hands also coming to wrap around his neck. Seokjin's hands come down to cup at his ass though his jeans, making Namjoon hiss through his teeth. They're weirdly silent, except for the little gasps Seokjin lets out, or the little grunts Namjoon presses into Seokjin's mouth to vanish forever. Namjoon didn't expect this silence, or maybe he's just watched too much porn with shitty background music.
Seokjin's lips feel so nice though, so fucking nice, wonders what the rest of him feels like, the skin over his hipbones, or the dip of his pelvis, and his--
He wonders if he dares.
NEXT
rap monster/jin
11460 words; pg-13
warning: Slight sexual interactions under the influence of alcohol (but no sex!)
written here originally for bangtanexchange! and an ao3 mirror here!
Of course it’s Jimin’s idea.
The problem with Jimin is that there is no problem, which means no one can ever say no to Jimin.
Which means that when graduation comes around, when Jimin sits down at the lunch table with a loud, Let’s go on a road trip!, everyone who wants to say no doesn’t.
Yoongi tries.
“I get carsick easily,” he says. “It’s why I walk to school instead of having my brother drive me.”
“Don’t worry!” Jimin says, “We’ll make lots of pit stops. Hoseok said he’d drive.”
Namjoon’s still unconvinced. No one is, really. Except for Hoseok. Fuck Hoseok. “He’s not seriously driving us in his mom’s SUV, right? Because I’m not going to step foot in there.”
“Not since prom,” Taehyung says, very helpfully.
“Thank you, Taehyung,” Seokjin tells him, very unthankfully. Seokjin doesn’t look like he really wants to go either, from the way he’s staring at the floor.
Jimin looks like he has this planned out, and that in itself is already worrying. Namjoon doesn’t want to be a part of this. “We’ll use Seokjin hyung’s car! Right, hyung?”
“What?”
“Exactly.”
It’s settled.
They’re going on a road trip to Busan after graduation.
The only ones who are actually graduating are Yoongi and Seokjin, but that’s the heart of the problem. They hadn’t even become friends until sophomore year of school, when Namjoon introduced them to each other one rainy day when Seokjin was the only one carrying an umbrella.
Sometimes it doesn’t matter how different someone’s personality can be, as long as they can brave the worst together. Seokjin’s blown in umbrella and three boy’s drenched uniforms isn’t the worst, but it was a start.
“What are you doing?” Namjoon asks a week later, in the back of the library. Taehyung scrambles to cover his paper until he realizes it’s just Namjoon.
“Song list,” he says as Namjoon sits next to him. “Jungkook told me to make it, ‘cause he said we’d probably fight with the radio the whole time.”
“We would,” Namjoon agrees, and looks at the list. Taehyung looks at him expectantly, and he takes a deep breath.“Taehyung,” he says seriously, “what made you think you think this list was a good idea?”
“What? There’s Block B for Yoongi hyung, Fall Out Boy for Hoseok hyung, Hyuna for Seokjin hyung--”
“Taehyung,” he sighs, “You can’t just go from Nillili Mambo to Bubble Pop.”
“It’s not my fault Seokjin has weird taste.”
Namjoon laughs. Seokjin has the weirdest taste out of anyone he knows. Only he could unironically have Sistar and Kendrick Lamar on the same playlist and try to defend it. “It’s gonna be weird without them,” he sighs.
Taehyung nods solemnly next to him. “Two weeks left.”
Two weeks. Fourteen days. Ten school days. Namjoon hates numbers. “Are you ready?”
“Are you?”
Namjoon watches Taehyung pen down another song name onto the list. I’m Yours - Jason Mraz. “No,” he confesses, just as the bell rings.
Graduation flies by in a blur. Seokjin is crying, that fucking idiot, and Yoongi is grinning so wide his eyes disappear into those weird moon things it always does. Yoongi’s mom is a short lady with short bobbed hair and way too much energy for her size. Seokjin’s mom is, well, Seokjin, but female, and probably two decades older.
They usher everyone into a picture. Namjoon gets shoved next to a sobbing Seokjin, and Jungkook manages to shimmy his way onto his other side, and Jimin wraps an arm around Yoongi, who’s on Seokjin’s other side, and Hoseok, stupid Hoseok, slides onto the ground yelling Draw me like one of your french girls! and makes the picture that much more embarrassing. Namjoon learns to love that photo, years later.
Hoseok drives him home because Namjoon isn’t old enough to drive yet, and is glad Hoseok doesn’t try to start a conversation. The adrenaline from hugging Yoongi and Seokjin and screaming Congratulations! You’ve made it! in their faces is gone, and all that’s left is the empty banging in his head.
Namjoon gets home and at least remembers to say goodbye to Hoseok and thank him for the ride, but as he walks up to his room his chest feels heavy, like he could just face plant onto the staircase and roll down the rest of the steps and that would be completely okay with him. He doesn’t, because his sister’s room is next to the staircase and she’s come out and question him and that’s just annoying. What a wreck, Namjoon. What a wreck.
He half expects to enter his room and find it completely different. Like maybe there’d be a giant banner on his window that reads Yoongi and Seokjin graduated today!, and then confetti would fly out of nowhere and it’d look very fun and Namjoon would be mad because he’s not having any fun at all.
He sits at his desk and spins around in his chair, like that’ll accomplish anything. There’s a picture on his desk he finally spots after the twelfth spin. His head spins as he picks it up, not quite sure is he’s really holding it, until the vertigo dissipates and Namjoon’s left with a picture of him and the rest of the boys. Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung still have their middle school uniforms, ugly brown slacks and an off white dress shirt that only Jungkook has tucked in, and the other four, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, and him with their even uglier khaki pants and navy blue blazers. None of them have their shirts tucked in. Yoongi has the blazer draping off his shoulders, rather than wearing it like a normal person. When the hell was this taken?
The frame comes off easily, except he almost drops the glass cover onto the floor, if not for his knees that catch it before it slides through his legs and shatters. He spends one more minute staring at the picture, now in his hand, and examines everyone individually. For once Hoseok looks like a normal fucking person, with his hands in his pocket and giant grin on his face. His hair is wet. Actually, now that he’s looking, they’re all wet. Seokjin’s dark brown hair is sticking to his face in clumps, and Jimin’s shirt is sticking to his skin. Namjoon himself is completely soaked -- there’s even a few drops of water caught in the picture, forever frozen in midair.
He turns the picture over. September 1, 2010. Someone gave Jungkook water guns for his birthday.
Namjoon laughs. It’s the short, barking kind of laugh. Like he’s relieved. He doesn’t know why.
Now, his anger seems kind of stupid. It’s not like Yoongi and Seokjin are going to disappear forever. Yoongi lives next door to him, for a start, and Seokjin is across the street. They all live next to each other. He’ll see them for the rest of summer. He’ll see them during their breaks. He’ll see them when they come home on the weekends. He’ll see them when Hoseok decides it’s time to raid their dorms and see whose room is messier.
But still. Right now Kim Namjoon is sixteen years old and two of his best friends are graduating and leaving him behind and it feels like nothing will ever be the same again.
“Is it true you’re going on a road trip?” Namjoon’s little sister, Kyungmin, asks the next day at breakfast.
“Apparently,” Namjoon mumbles around his breakfast.
“Can I come?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“But I--”
Namjoon’s father comes to the rescue and cuts in with how she doesn’t want to hang out with boys, they’re dirty, smelly, he would know, he’s a boy, after all. She whines and starts mumbling things, Namjoon thinks he hears but Hoseok oppa! and downs the rest of his water.
It’s no secret that Jiyoon has the world’s biggest crush on Hoseok. Hoseok’s that type of nice, funny guy that charms everyone’s moms and younger siblings. He’s at least nice enough to indulge her a bit, and also gets the satisfaction of annoying Namjoon when he pinches her cheeks.
“When is this road trip happening?” Namjoon’s father asks. He shrugs. He doesn’t know, after all. Jimin mentioned it once, and then somehow everyone knew. He’s pretty sure his mother knows more about it than he does.
His phone rings, and Namjoon’s father sends him a glare, because phones are not to be used at the dinner table, except Namjoon’s finished his food anyway, so he picks it up, tucks it between his ear and shoulder, and brings his empty plate to the kitchen sink.
“Namjoon?” It’s Seokjin.
“Hyung, what’s up?”
There’s some bickering on the other line, then he hears the sound of a door slamming, and then Jin’s voice is in his ears again: “You busy tomorrow?”
“No, why?”
“I’m visiting my college tomorrow to drop some papers off. I remember you said you might apply, so wanna come along and see what the campus is like? I’ll show you my dorm-to-be!”
Namjoon wants to go. “Gotta ask my mom.”
Seokjin laughs. “Where do you think your mom is? She brought it up.”
“That traitor.”
“Keeps your friends close but your enemies closer,” Seokjin says sagely, except that doesn’t make sense, and Namjoon holds back a witty retort in favor for an ugly snort.
“You’re stupid,” he says, and Seokjin snaps back something about stupid honor roll kid that Namjoon ignores. “What time tomorrow then?”
“Probably early. Be ready by nine, I wanna say? I’ll text you.”
“Gotcha.”
“See you then!”
Namjoon hangs up the phone and feels a bit sad.
Namjoon’s not sure if he wants to go to college. He’d rather make music and perform music and be surrounded by people who like music just as much as he does. The only person who knows this is Hoseok, who pats him on the back and says something about getting a degree in music composition. Who knows, maybe he will. Seokjin’s university is pretty good for that.
Namjoon’s also not sure if he likes Seokjin or not. This has nothing to do with his university, but maybe the fact that Seokjin’s sitting in driver’s seat, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to Ailee’s new song, and that makes Namjoon feel all fuzzy inside, but also extremely uncomfortable at the same time. Like the fuzzy feeling is also ticklish, and Namjoon’s sure he read somewhere that being ticklish is actually a panic response to unwanted stimuli.
“You okay?” Seokjin asks when they’ve stopped a red light. He turns to him, and Namjoon thinks he might actually look concerned, if he could see past his huge fucking sunglasses.
“Nerves,” he replies quickly. “College and stuff. Y’know. Why aren’t you nervous?”
Seokjin smiles. “I have plenty of time to be nervous. I’m stalling.”
“You can’t stall feelings,” Namjoon insists when the light turns green again. “You’re nervous when you are.”
“Oh, Namjoonie,” Seokjin says, and Seokjin only ever calls him Namjoonie when he’s being patronizing, “you know your feelings don’t control you, right? You make feelings - you can interpret and bend them however you want.”
Namjoon thinks that over for the rest of the ride.
“This is where I should be staying, if the whole housing thing works out okay,” Seokjin says, gesturing to the building behind him. It’s a red brick building, three stories high, with a white roof.
“It’s a lot uglier than I pictured,” Namjoon admits.
“Most colleges are,” Seokjin replies. “Wanna see if we can get inside? There’s summer classes, so there should be some kids here.”
Namjoon doesn’t really care, but he nods anyway. The door itself needs a student ID card to unlock, so they wait for a student to walk out of the building.
“Have you guys lost your IDs?” someone behind them asks.
“Yeah,” Seokjin says, with an over exaggerated sigh. “Second time.”
The other student grimaces. “That must be hell to pay. You’re like the third kid I’ve had to key in today.”
“Sorry.”
“Nah,” the kid says, and opens the door. “Not a problem. What’s your name?”
“Kim Seokjin, freshman,” he says. “You?”
“Kim Himchan, to-be-junior. Anyway, here you go. I live on the third floor if you need anything. See you around.”
“He seemed nice,” Namjoon mumbles after Himchan walks up the stairs.
Seokjin nods. “C’mon, let’s go look around.”
Most of the dorms are empty, and there isn’t much to look at anyway, so they end up leaving a grand half hour later.
“Well,” Namjoon says, “we did a lot.”
“Hey, we did hand in the papers I was supposed to, which is technically the main reason we went there.”
Namjoon shrugs. The highway isn’t as crowded as before, even though it’s further in the day. Namjoon wonders what it’s like to drive. Everyone looks cooler when they’re driving. Even Seokjin, with his oversized glasses and hipster band tshirt. “You’re going pretty far away,” he finally says.
“Hm?” Seokjin asks. The car shifts into the next lane, and they into the exit. “It’s only an hour away.”
“An hour away by car,” Namjoon points out, hoping he doesn’t sound as rotten as he sounds right now. “Yoongi’s going to college in Seoul.”
“Do you want me to apologize?” Seokjin says, and Namjoon should’ve known he’d see right through Namjoon’s masquerade. “Find a college closer and transfer before I even enter?”
Namjoon laughs, but maybe his voice cracks. Maybe. “Can you do that in two months?”
“I’m sorry I can’t take you with me,” Seokjin says softly, “but I can’t do anything about that.”
Namjoon’s aware of that. Namjoon’s completely aware of that, and that’s why he’s angry, feels ashamed for being angry. Angry and jealous and ashamed and betrayed that his life feels like it’s going to fall apart when it’s obviously not. “Sorry,” he tells the window. “I’m just not ready for this group to break up.” The window understands. Outside, a car cuts them off, and Seokjin hisses a profanity.
“Neither am I,” Seokjin says, almost wistfully, “But this doesn’t mean we’re breaking up. We’re just... testing limits, I guess.”
Namjoon counts the lamp posts as the car turns into their neighborhood. “I guess so.”
“Three days,” Jimin says the next day, outside Namjoon’s window.
“Three days what?” Namjoon calls out. Why doesn’t he just knock on the door?
“Road trip!” Jimin shouts. “We’re going to go to Busan and stay at Jungkook’s uncle’s house.”
“It takes like four hours to get to Busan, this doesn’t count as a road trip.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. We’re gonna make a few pit stops. Text you details later, alright?” He runs off before Namjoon can answer, probably to Yoongi’s house to relay the same message.
“Name all the people who told you this was a good idea, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi says, “I’m going to hit them all.”
“My mom,” Jimin replies, and throws a water bottle to Taehyung, who’s lying on the hood of Hoseok’s car.
“I’m excited,” Taehyung says, jumping into the back seat, “Except it’d be awesome if we were in one of those convertible cars, instead of an SUV. It’d be like those American movies.”
Hoseok grins from where he’s coming out of the front door of his house, acoustic guitar in hand, “If no one sings Jason Mraz I’m going to be disappointed in you all.”
“We need to make a pit stop and start a campfire,” Taehyung adds, lying on his back, legs sticking awkwardly out of the door, “make smores and sing campfire songs.”
Seokjin laughs and tosses his bag into the trunk. “I think that’s hiking, Taehyungie. Need any help?”
Namjoon shakes his head, dumping in his backpack as well. “When are we heading out?” he asks to no one in particular.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Hoseok sing songs, spinning the keys in his hand. “You guys are gonna be so glad we took my car instead of Seokjin hyung’s.”
“Actually, no one wants to sit your soccer mom SUV. But I still call shotgun,” Yoongi says, climbing into the car. “Hurry up and let’s go.”
Jungkook and Jimin are shoved into the backseat, grumbling about the indecencies of life, while Taehyung, Namjoon, and Seokjin sit in the middle. The car isn’t that small, but Namjoon still ends up pressed against Seokjin’s side, and that makes his face burn bright red, and god dammit, he’d always been pretty good at hiding his emotions, but his face flushes at the smallest things. “Two hours until Carribean Bay,” Taehyung whines, slumping down, giving Namjoon even less space. “Let’s teleport.”
The first half hour is spent with Yoongi and Seokjin fighting over the radio. It changes every few seconds from the English rap music station Namjoon didn’t know existed to the mainstream music radio, until Jungkook and Jimin bet on who’s going to snap first and kill the other.
“Didn’t you have that CD?” Namjoon whispers to Taehyung, who’s not even on the seat anymore. Seokjin’s leaning over Namjoon, shirt riding up and exposing his hipbones, not that Namjoon’s looking, to fight Yoongi over controls on the radio, giving Namjoon even less space.
He shrugs. “I left it in my laptop.”
“Useless,” he groans. “Your shirt’s riding up, hyung,” he tells Seokjin.
“You looking?” Seokjin asks, grinning. While he’s distracted, Yoongi changes the radio station and heaves a sigh.
“I’m hungry,” Jimin complains. Jungkook agrees.
“We just left,” Hoseok says. “And you guys both ate, don’t even lie to me.”
While everyone else is distracted, Namjoon tugs Seokjin back down into his seat and hands him an earbud and his ipod. He sticks the other earbud in his own ear. “It’s my ipod, but I’ll let you choose the song.”
Seokjin stares at the earbud for a second, like he’s confused, or maybe like something is going to pop out of the earbud and devour him, but then puts it in his ear anyway and smiles at Namjoon.
And that’s not fair. That’s really not fair -- the way something stupid and trivial like a smile can get Namjoon’s heart pumping more blood than it should, embarrassment and contentment flooding his veins in one go.
"You don't mind, even if I choose all the weird anime songs I know you have on here?"
"No I don't--"
Namjoon groans at the electric pop that floods his ear. "Can we not listen to Madoka songs?"
"It's on your ipod," Seokjin says, grinning. "I didn't know you liked magical girls so much."
"It's my sister's," he replies, and glances back at Seokjin, who sees right through his lie. He doesn’t like that Seokjin does that.
"So, Namjoonie," Seokjin hums, throwing an arm around Namjoon's shoulder, "How many times have you masturbated to anime girls in short skirts?"
Namjoon wants to slam his head into the window. Hoseok's laughter rings from the front seat. "Who's masturbating to anime?"
"You mean aside from the obvious?" Namjoon glowers.
"I am shameless, and my hentai is a temple," he says sagely, and Yoongi snorts next to him.
"You should see his laptop," Jungkook says from behind them.
"You let Jungkookie see your laptop?" Seokjin yells as Hoseok makes a sharp left turn, throwing them all to the right side of the car.
"Who the fuck let you drive?" Namjoon snaps.
Hoseok curses, and then honks at a car that cuts them off. "Where's your license, huh?"
"You're gonna kill us--"
"Hyung, I need to-"
"Jungkook is sixteen!"
"Hyung, Jungkook said he needs to--"
"Will the peanut gallery behind me shut the fuck up," Yoongi shouts, and everyone collectively quiets down. The radio is turned up until Namjoon can feel the bass thumping underneath his feet, and looks towards Seokjin, who's looking past him. He follows his gaze to see Taehyung next to him, body completely slumped down on the seat, head tilting off to his left, asleep.
"How," Seokjin whispers, and Namjoon shrugs.
"Superpowers," he says, and grabs his ipod back when Seokjin's distracted, and plays all his Kanye West songs.
"I'm sleeping," Seokjin says, and Namjoon expects him to give him back his earbud, but instead, he shifts so that he's leaning towards Namjoon and puts his head on his shoulder.
"Hoseok, how much longer do we have to go?" Namjoon asks.
"About an hour," Yoongi answers.
"Cool," he says, and slides down in his seat a little. "I'm joining you then," he tells Seokjin, and leans his head on top of Seokjin's.
He feels Seokjin tense a little beneath him, but then he feels the steady rise and fall of Seokjin's chest, and they both relax.
"Hyung!"
Someone is jabbing Namjoon in the side of the head, and that's really fucking annoying. "What the hell do you want?" he asks, grabbing the offender's hand. It's Jimin.
"We're here."
"What?"
"We're here," Jimin repeats. "Caribbean Bay."
Namjoon groans, feeling the knots in his back ache has he stretches his arms out in front of him. He's the only one left in the car. Taehyung and Seokjin are waiting on the side, Yoongi and Jungkook are already wearing their swim trunks, and Hoseok is waiting to lock the car. "Sorry," he mumbles, stumbling out of the van.
"S'cool," Hoseok says, as the car beeps when the door is closed. "We actually got a close parking space, so score. Seokjin hyung got your swim shorts, by the way."
"Seokjin hyung?" Namjoon looks up to see Seokjin walking a few paces in front of him, deep in conversation with Taehyung and Jimin. He makes out the words burgers and ice cream before Hoseok nudges him in the side.
"How is that going?"
"What?"
"Seokjin hyung."
"What about Seokjin hyung?"
Hoseok frowns at him, and Namjoon feels a little guilty before Hoseok rarely frowns. Doesn't like anything that requires him to not be aloof and making people laugh. "Don't play dumb. We're chingu; I know everything about you. And I know despite the fact Taehyung wants to go to Seokjin hyung's university too, he only invited you to go with him."
"Because I'm going to be a senior? Taehyung's only a sophomore -- junior now, I guess."
"That's exactly when everyone looks at colleges, dude. We're supposed to start applying and studying for entrance exams now."
Yoongi, who's been walking a few feet away from them, suddenly comes close. "Are we shit talking Seokjin?"
"No," Hoseok says, "the opposite, actually. We're talking about Namjoon's little crush on him."
"It's not a crush--"
"He's right," Yoongi says, "it's not. He's been infatuated for the past three years."
"Hyung."
Yoongi pets him on the head as they reach the entrance of the theme park and pull out their tickets. The younger two and Seokjin are already inside, waiting by the fountain for them patiently. "You're not obvious, but I look more than you think."
"Also we basically breathe for the days you fuck up," Hoseok adds helpfully.
Namjoon sighs. The last thing he wants to talk about on his last vacation with his closest friends in the boy next door he sorta kinda wants to get with. "Is there a point?"
"It's the last vacation with the whole group," Hoseok says, hitting Yoongi in the stomach when he snaps No it's not in the background. "Use it well. Right, hyung?"
"Whatever," Yoongi mutters. "Go get changed. Everyone else is in their swim suits."
Namjoon wants to make a remark, but Hoseok pulls him in the direction of the bathroom. "Did you really have to grab a white tshirt for me?" he asks incredulously.
Hoseok waggles his eyebrows. "Like it?"
"This is on purpose," he accuses, and Hoseok doesn't deny it. “You said Seokjin hyung got my clothes.”
"Seokjin hyung's got a bag with all of our clothes in it that we're gonna dump in a locker," Hoseok sing songs as he exits. "Hurry up. And I lied."
For what it's worth, Caribbean Bay is awesome. They split up into groups, Taehyung and Jimin, Jungkook and Hoseok, and then Seokjin, Yoongi, and himself.
"How do we feel about the really tall water slides?" Namjoon asks, looking up at one that's blue and swirly. It doesn't actually look that tall, but just in case.
"Amazing," Yoongi says. "Let's go."
Seokjin doesn't argue.
From up here, actually, it does look quite tall. Looking down was a very bad idea. Namjoon isn't afraid of heights or anything, but Jesus Christ there's no ceiling to the slide.
"Stop looking down," Seokjin says, and Namjoon's head snaps back up to look at the two.
"What?"
"You're looking down," Seokjin explains, like Namjoon didn't know that. "Even if you're not scared of heights, looking down like that would freak anyone out."
"I'm not afraid of heights."
"Are you guys going?" Yoongi cuts them off. "It's your turn."
"You're not coming?" Seokjin asks, looking slightly wounded.
Yoongi snorts. "Two people to a raft. And there's a really cute girl behind us, so shut up and go."
Namjoon laughs, ducking forward to get into the raft. "C'mon hyung," he says as Seokjin clambers in behind him.
"Afraid of heights now?" Seokjin asks, wrapping his arms around Namjoon's waist. His skin burns through his tshirt, and really, all Namjoon wants to do is lean back against Seokjin and breathe in his scent.
"How am I supposed to be with my protective hyung to save me?"
"Yah," Seokjin snaps, "is that sarcasm?"
Namjoon does lean back, head resting on Seokjin's chest. "Maybe."
And on second thought, that's probably a bad position to be in on a really tall water slide. He vaguely hears Yoongi mutter that's gross from behind them before they're pushed forward and holy fuck it's fast. Seokjin is screaming in his ear, and Namjoon laughs as the water tumbles around them before they finally are pushed off the side and into the pool of water under them. Namjoon rolls off the raft first, spluttering, before he grabs the side of it and flips it over so Seokjin yells and joins him in the water.
"That was awesome," Namjoon yells, wading in place. "Right, hyung?"
One of the employees call them to get out of the pool so the next couple can go as Seokjin takes a mouthful of water and sprays it into Namjoon's face.
"That was gross," Namjoon groans as they climb out of the pool. "And I feel like my shorts are going to fall off."
Seokjin takes a bit longer to get out, and when he does, his gaze lingers longer on Namjoon than he thinks it should, eyes slightly hooded, and he tries not to think about what that means.
They're both silent, Seokjin silently watching him, and Namjoon wonders if he should say something, break the atmosphere, but then someone shreiks behind them and they both turn to see Yoongi being thrown off the raft, along with a petite girl with short hair. "That was the most unmanly scream I've heard."
Seokjin laughs. "Yoongi is a lot less scary than everyone thinks he is."
They wait for Yoongi to climb out the pool, watches as he waves goodbye to the girl and walks over to them, shedding his shirt as he goes. "I hate clothes," he announces. Then he looks at Namjoon. "Why the hell are you even wearing that? It's white."
Namjoon thinks about it, because it is really annoying, the white cloth sticking to his skin uncomfortable, but then thinks of Seokjin's gaze like daggers, and says, "Nah, I'll be cold. I'm already cold."
Yoongi shrugs. "Your call. By the way I'm ditching, so have fun."
Apparently Yoongi has a date with the girl he was on the raft with. Seokjin laughs and tells him not to keep his girlfriend waiting, and Namjoon feels a little exposed, suddenly alone with Seokjin and that gaze and his really sticky shirt. Being alone with Seokjin has never felt awkward, but now that he can see the outline of his hipbones through his equally wet and probably sticky shirt, all he wants to do is grab him by the waist and pull him close, breathe in the chlorine of the pool water and taste the droplets trickling down his face.
"So," Namjoon says to the open air in front of him. "Where should we go next?"
Seokjin shrugs from beside him. "I saw a ride on the way here, the one that's on the river. Wanna go there?"
"Sure," Namjoon says, and follows Seokjin quietly.
He's able to tolerate the next few rides with Seokjin. The river is slow and boring and mainly for scenery, but Namjoon doesn't really think the scenery behind him is anything to look at, unless that's Seokjin actually looking at him. He pretends to face the other side and marvel at the rocks and waves crashing around them. "Do you think I'd cut myself if I put my hand in the water?" he says, turning to face Seokjin, and ducks his head backwards out of reflex. Seokjin is way too close to him, eyes cutting deep into his, and Namjoon's heart thumps wildly in his chest.
"Yeah, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Seokjin says, but he's still looking at Namjoon with that expression, and then for a split second, so fast Namjoon could swear he imagined it, Seokjin's eyes flit down to his lips, and then back up to his eyes, and the thumping in his chest gets louder, harder, pumping black ooze through his body.
"Right," he says slowly, "bad idea."
The ride ends then, and Namjoon scrambles to get the seat belt and life jacket off as fast as he possibly can.
"I'm hungry," Namjoon tells Seokjin after the fifth ride, praying for anything to get rid of this uneasy feeling in his gut. He hopes the other guys can possibly save him. "Let's meet up with the others to go eat."
They do and they don't. Hoseok grins wildly and seats them next to each other, Seokjin's damp shorts riding up on his legs, and Namjoon's brain melts at the touch of Seokjin's thigh against his. But at least with the comfort of five other guys, even Yoongi, who says the girl he was with had to leave, things are much more comfortable. He's not constantly giving or receiving attention, and that's nice, to just let his mind wander by itself.
"I'm pretty tired, actually," Jimin says. "We've been walking around all day."
Taehyung agrees. "Do you guys still want to still stay? Because it's already sunset."
"Sleep," Namjoon says, much louder than he intends to, "is a great idea. I'm exhausted."
Yoongi and Hoseok exchange glances. "We could rent a motel room," he says. "Yongin is nearby, we could just go there."
"Sounds like a plan to me," Jimin says brightly, and they all quickly finish the rest of their food and change.
"I call shotgun," Namjoon calls out, and Yoongi shrugs, mainly because this time he's driving, and Hoseok wants to terrorize everyone in the backseat.
On the way to the car, Yoongi tugs on his sleeve, eyes carefully guarded. "Did anything happen?" he asks. "And don't try to play stupid, you know I can see through your bullshit."
"I... don't know," Namjoon says quietly. "Honestly. I don't know."
He doesn't like the look Yoongi gives him, but at least he doesn't say anything back.
They find a relatively cheap hotel in the middle of Yongin, just a mere two streets down from the heart of the nightlife there.
Taehyung and Jungkook pass out first, curled up together on one of the two beds. Hoseok wiggles in and throws the comforter over all of them. Jimin's got a bundle of blankets and pillows on the floor, and Yoongi's playing games on his phone on the couch, where Namjoon assumes he'll probably be sleeping.
"Hey," Seokjin hisses from the bathroom door, an hour later, and Namjoon pauses brushing his teeth to see what the commotion is.
"What?" Namjoon asks.
Seokjin slides in easily next to Namjoon, jumps onto the counter and gets comfortable. "Have you ever been clubbing before?" he whispers.
"Clubbing?" Namjoon asks, and thinks he knows where this is going. "No, of course not. Why?"
"Wanna?" he asks, and Namjoon gives him a look. Everyone else is sleeping, except for Yoongi who probably wouldn’t give a fuck if they ran through the streets naked or not.
Namjoon's not old enough to drink yet, but Seokjin is, and he wonders if Seokjin's ever done it before, or if this is going to be his first time too. "Yeah," he says, "let’s do it."
For someone who can actually get into the club regardless, Seokjin is panicking too much for Namjoon.
“Oh god,” Seokjin says, “They're checking IDs.”
“Shut up,” Namjoon hisses, adjusting his jacket. It’s not even his, technically, it’s Hoseok’s, but what Hoseok doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
The wind is bitingly cold, whipping Seokjin’s gelled hair in a million different directions. He wonders what the state of his own hair looks like right now. So much for trying to look like a Grown Ass Man -- he probably looks like a puppy off it’s leash.
Seokjin though. Granted, Seokjin is old enough to get into the club anyway, but despite his worries for Namjoon, he looks too comfortable. Well enough that Namjoon wants to question if he’s done this before: pushed back his hair, walked through shady hallways and grinded against anonymous girls. Something hot flashes through his veins, bitter and slimy, and for a second Namjoon thinks he might just drown in it. Envy drips in clumps off his body, droplets splashing everywhere like drops of blood when Namjoon grabs Seokjin by the arm quietly and pulls him along. He doesn't actually know what he's doing, but maybe this suddenly anger makes him look older, more confident, because nearly two seconds later they're past the bouncer and walking down dark steps, bass shaking all around them.
"We did it," Seokjin breathes in his ear. "We're in. You're in."
Namjoon laughs, but he can't even hear it in his own ears. He wonders why he can hear Seokjin so clearly. "I bet they would've carded you first before ever thinking about me."
Seokjin rolls his eyes, but ruffles his hair nonethelss as they reach the heart of the club. "Drinks?" he asks, and Namjoon looks over at the bar, a little nervous, a little curious.
"Yeah."
Namjoon doesn't know much about drinking; the most he's ever done is brought him his drunk father home from bars and calmed down his angry mom, and sometimes there are sips of wine at Christmas dinners, but this is an entire new ballgame.
Seokjin's leaning on his shoulder, breathe fanning against his neck as he leans back to down another shot. The liquid burns his throat as he it goes down, but he feels really good right now, regardless. "Are you gonna talk another one?" he slurs, and Seokjin shakes his head.
"I think... I think I've reached my limit. And I should probably try to be responsible."
Namjoon laughs. That's ridiculous, Seokjin was the one who brought a minor into the club.
"Hey!" Seokjin snaps, "Fine, do you want me to take another shot?"
"Well," Namjoon says, stumbling forward. "We do have one more left."
Seokjin stares at the little shot glass like the liquid is going to jump out of it and possibly attack him. "Okay," he says. "For my Namjoonie."
"For your Namjoon," he agrees, and why does that sound weird? Your Namjoon... Your Namjoon... Your-- oh, Seokjin tips the glass back and drinks it in one go.
"Now let's dance," Seokjin says, grin wicked.
This is how people dance in a club, right? That's what Namjoon's seen in movies, and looking around him, seems pretty accurate. He's never been the best dancer, but since he figures he's drunk right now, he's either doing an awesome job or an awful job.
Seokjin, on the other hand, feels dirty and sinful against him. Do normal friends dance like this together? He doesn't think normal friends dance like this -- Namjoon's fingers splayed across Seokjin's hipbone, shirt riding up, ass pressed onto Namjoon's crotch. Seokjin's head is lolling on his shoulder, tilted towards his neck, and oh, his lips are parted, little puffs of breath tingling against his skin. Namjoon closes his eyes, pushes Seokjin a little further away him, and breathes hard through his nose because fuck he's getting hard, and oh, oh god, Seokjin steps back right into his space, hands sliding over his own and presses them together.
Fuck it, Namjoon thinks, swaying his hips, fuck it. He's drunk and doesn't care and Seokjin feels like fire and intoxication against him.
"Hey," Seokjin says into his ear, "do you wanna leave?"
Alright then. "I... sure," Namjoon says. He doesn't actually know how long they've been here for, and if it's been a long time, then they really should be heading back now.
It's freezing outside the club, goosebumps rising on Namjoon's arms, and wasn't he wearing a jacket before? -- but oh, okay, that's Seokjin's tongue flicking against his and he's being pushed against the dirty club wall, cement digging into his back painfully, but Seokjin's hand is gripping his jaw so hard it might bruise as he filthily kisses the breathe out of his lungs.
There's something buzzing in Namjoon's mind, that maybe this is a bad idea? Possibly? But that's stupid, he thinks as his hands find their ways into Seokjin's back pockets, fingers gripping at his ass -- how could this possibly be a bad idea? Seokjin lips feel like adrenaline, hot and white, flames flickering through the pads of fingers on Namjoon's jaw, and they slide to the back of his head to scratch at his nape.
That feels really good, sends a tiny flicker of electricity, sharp and tingling, unlike the smooth burn of lava, and he moans loudly into Seokjin's mouth. Everything feels hazy, like he might just collapse under the tidal wave of lust because he wants, he wants, he wants.
"We gotta go," he grunts, as much as he doesn't want that, but he really has no idea what time it is and they have to head back soon.
Seokjin, surprisingly, peels away from him, stumbling until his hand finds Namjoon's. The first few steps are okay, but then Namjoon trips over his own feet, and realizes just how fucked they are for the rest of the walk.
It's a good thing their hotel is so close to the club, and also a bad thing because they're both still very much drunk and Namjoon is hard and when Seokjin pushes him up against their car, he wonders why he ever even thought of relenting.
"Fuck," Seokjin gasps, hips knocking against his own, "you're so hot."
Namjoon moans, leaning forward to capture Seokjin's lips, hands also coming to wrap around his neck. Seokjin's hands come down to cup at his ass though his jeans, making Namjoon hiss through his teeth. They're weirdly silent, except for the little gasps Seokjin lets out, or the little grunts Namjoon presses into Seokjin's mouth to vanish forever. Namjoon didn't expect this silence, or maybe he's just watched too much porn with shitty background music.
Seokjin's lips feel so nice though, so fucking nice, wonders what the rest of him feels like, the skin over his hipbones, or the dip of his pelvis, and his--
He wonders if he dares.
NEXT